
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

ChapTEZ^Copyright No. 

Shelt_J3_2A5lr.t 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 











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IN THE TIDEWAY 




IN THE TIDEWAY 



Author of 


FLORA ANNIE STEEL 

ii 

“ On the Face of the Waters,” “ Miss Stuart’s 
Legacy,” “Red Rowans,” etc., etc. 


Nrtrr fgotlt 

THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

1897 

All rights reserved 



* 2 ~. 



Copyright, 1897, 

By THE MACMILLAN COMPANY. 


Narfajootj $ress 

J. S. Cushing & Co. — Berwick & Smith 
Norwood Mass. U.S.A. 


IN THE TIDEWAY 

PROLOGUE 

A statue of charity with helpless child- 
hood gathered to the ample bosom, and 
helpless age sheltered by the ample veil 
behind it, a crimson curtain concealing an 
angle in the stairway. In front a crowd 
streaming slackly, yet steadily, up the 
steps; a crowd which broke into little 
eddies of greeting, little backwaters of 
gossip, whilst the waves from the rear, 
taking advantage of the pause, rippled 
higher and higher. A crowd complaining 
indifferently of the crush, the heat, the im- 
possibility of being in two places at once 
— not with reference to the hay-sweet 
meadows and copses where the nightin- 
gales were singing to the moon that sum- 


B 


z 


2 


In the Tideway 


mer’s night, but in regard to some other 
hot staircase, where society was due some 
time ere the sun rose. 

To the man who, in a comfortable niche 
behind the statue, sate removed from the 
pressure of the current, the scene was 
framed by Charity’s mantle. Perhaps it 
needed the setting ; a crowd generally does 
whether it be in the old Kent Road or 
Grosvenor Square. 

“The Big Bear! I beg your pardon, 
Mr. Lockhart. Why aren’t you in Rome, 
and is there room for me on that peaceful 
seat ? ” 

“ There is always room for Golden Locks 
beside the Big Bear — and now, Lady Maud, 
why should I be in Rome at this season of 
the year ? ” 

“Because, being an artist, you should 
not mind malaria. Besides, what is ma- 
laria to this insufferable heat and crush? 
Doesn’t it strike you that our hostess 
thinks getting into society, and getting 
society into her rooms, are synonymous 
terms? Did you ever see such a — ” 


3 


In the Tideway 

“ Charity, Lady Maud, Charity ! ” inter- 
rupted her companion, pointing to the 
protecting arm stretched between them 
and the crowd. “ Let it cover the multi- 
tude — ” 

“ Of sins ? Thank you. I suppose I 
am wicked. But you — why are you here 
in the swim ? When you profess to despise 
us — to renounce the world, the flesh, and 
the devil — ” 

“ Because I came to see one who should 
have nothing to do with that Trinity of 
Evil either. I came to see you, Lady 
Maud. I couldn’t pass through Babylon 
without giving you my congratulations. 
So you are going to be married — ” 

He paused, looking her in the face 
curiously. 

“Well! Why don’t you say ‘at last’? 
It is what every lady thinks, I’m sure. 
People have been coming perilously near 
calling me ‘poor Lady Maud’ these last 
two seasons, and now — yes ! I am to 
marry Mr. Wilson — you know him, I 
think.” 


4 


In the Tideway 


“Yes, I do know that fortunate man, 
and, pardon me, Lady Maud, but you and 
I have been confidential, haven’t we ? ever 
since in a tourbillon of white frills and blue 
sashes you chosQ to prefer my walnuts to 
other folks’ sweeties at dessert. Now about 
Eustace. What is to become of him ? ” 

The pretty face winced just a little. 

“ Haven’t you heard ? Eustace is to be 
married also ; indeed, we think of choosing 
the same day.” 

“ Out of bravado ? ” 

“ Nothing of the kind. Eustace and I 
have put away — childish things. We have 
decided to be sensible, and he is marrying 
Louisa Capper, the American heiress. I 
like Louisa.” 

“ I trust that feeling is shared by Eu- 
stace.” 

“ How hopelessly old-fashioned you are, 
Big Bear! I don’t believe you will ever 
learn to shave yourself in tufts, and be- 
come a civilized poodle. Of course he 
likes her. She is really a very nice girl, 
and then she only has a father. Don’t 


5 


In the Tideway 

you think the American ‘ par-par ’ is less 
objectionable as a rule than the 1 mar-mar' ? 
To be serious, — which I should not trouble 
to be with ninety-nine people out of a hun- 
dred, — Eustace and I have seen the error 
of our ways, and we intend — in fact, I 
personally expect to be very happy. As 
I said, Louisa is very — ” 

“ Where do you spend the honeymoon ? ” 
he interrupted, not being in the least inter- 
ested in Louisa’s part in the business. 

“ Again hopelessly old-fashioned! There 
is but one place, nowadays, in which to 
spend a honeymoon, — Paris. It is so full 
of distractions. Then Mr. Wilson has 
taken a grouse moor near the North Pole ; 
Eustace is to come there in his new yacht, 
and we are to have a real good time; as 
Louisa — ” 

“ Near the North Pole? Didn’t know 
grouse grew there.” 

“ Well, it is not very far from it. I for- 
get the name, — but see ! there is Eustace 
behind old Lady Brecknock’s feathers. 
He will remember.” 


6 


In the Tideway 


A very handsome dark man in the 
stream saw her signal and drifted side- 
ways to shelter. 

“ Charity cometh,” he began. 

“ Please not. Mr. Lockhart has pat- 
ented it already; besides, I want you to 
tell me the name of that place in the 
Hebrides. Roederay ! Yes, of course ! 
I remember now that it put me in mind 
of dry champagne. By the way, you used 
to paint that coast once, Mr. Lockhart ; do 
you by chance know Roederay ? ” 

What is called a flicker of expression 
crossed her hearer’s face. It is a poor 
description for the absolute blank which a 
chance word brings to some imaginative 
people by summoning them from the pres- 
ent into the past. 

“ I know it well,” he replied. “ And if 
you will excuse me, Lady Maud, I don’t 
think it has much in common with dry 
champagne.” 

Her clear, rather scornful eyes were on 
him critically. 

“Association belongs to Hope as well 


In the Tideway 


7 


as Memory, Mr. Lockhart. You may have 
had a mauvais quart d'heure at Roederay. 
We intend to have a good time ; don’t we, 
Eustace ? ” 

“ Rather ! ” 

“I doubt it,” retorted the elder man; 
“ civilized people, like you, Eustace, for in- 
stance, shouldn’t go to those places. To 
begin with, there is always a difficulty about 
dinner.” 

Lady Maud laughed. “ Not in these 
days of ice and telegraphs. Besides, some 
of us like high teas — don’t we, Eustace ? ” 

His face did not change, though the ap- 
peal took him back many years in his turn ; 
but then, the speaker was in that past as 
she was in the present. To say sooth, she 
occupied them both fully. 

“Yes, we can endure them. Do you 
remember those holidays at Lynmouth, 
Maud, and the feeds we had on the cliffs ? 
I wonder if any boy ate more strawberries 
and cream at a sitting than I could do in 
those days ? ” 

“ Have you changed much since then ? ” 


8 


In the Tideway 


she asked, smiling up at him mischievously. 
“ I don’t see it, do you, Mr. Lockhart ? ” 

“ Not a bit,” replied the elder, laying his 
hand affectionately on the other’s shoulder. 
“ Eustace is just what he was as a boy — ■ 
not to be stinted in his enjoyment of good 
things. To return, however, to Roederay. 
You won’t like its simplicity, its habit of 
taking one right down to first principles.” 

“ It couldn’t ! we are too complex — aren’t 
we, Eustace ? ” 

“ And then it is grim. There is an island 
full of dead people, who appear — ” 

“ Ah ! I know all about the stone coffins 
and the bones; Professor Endorwick told 
me, and he is coming north on purpose to 
explore all the antiquities. There he is in 
the crush with Cynthia Strong. I wonder 
when that will come off ? Call them here, 
Eustace, and wisdom shall confound this 
Evil Prophet. Why, the professor, Mr. 
Lockhart, thinks Eilean-a-varai alone is suf- 
ficient inducement for a visit to Roederay.” 

“ Eilean-a-varai — Isle of the Dead, you 
call it ? We used to prefer another name : 


In the Tideway 9 

Eilean-ct-fa-ash — Island of Rest. It lies 
right out in the sunset, like Avilion.” 

Lady Maud gave a little shiver. 

“ Oh no ! that is ever so much more 
grim than the other. I hate things 
which — which appeal to the imagina- 
tion.” 

“I am quite aware of it,” he replied 
quietly; “hence my prophecy that Roe- 
deray will not suit you.” 

She sate playing with her fan idly. “ Isl- 
and of Rest indeed ! There never was such 
a place — there never will be. Ah, pro- 
fessor, come like a good soul and do battle 
for civilization and culture. Are we not 
far better than the primitives of the North 
Pole? Are we not stronger, wiser, more 
original — ” 

The learned professor, being a little deaf, 
did not quite catch her words. He was, in 
addition, much given to the jocular style 
when addressing the weaker sex, which he 
held to have been created for the sole pur- 
pose of exercising the social qualities of 
man. So, an appropriate remark having 


io In the Tideway- 

occurred to him, he came forward primed 
with it. 

“ Charity, Lady Maud, is, as a rule said 
to cover a multitude of sins ; in this case it 
conceals the virtues.” 

And he was greatly pleased with himself 
when everybody laughed. 

“ On the whole, I retract ‘ original,’ ” con- 
tinued Lady Maud gravely; “so you needn’t 
defend that proposition, professor. How 
can we be original ? There is nothing new 
under the sun ; even one’s jokes have been 
appropriated by past generations. Every- 
thing has been used up.” 

“Not everything,” said Will Lockhart. 
“To return to Roederay, for instance. 
You will be next-door neighbours to the 
Gulf Stream. It is not used up ; far from 
it. That , Lady Maud, will be another 
of the horrid things which appeal to the 
imagination. Night and day — day and 
night—” 

She shrugged her pretty bare shoulders. 

“ There is the Gulf Stream I like,” she 
replied, pointing to the crowd still surging 


In the Tideway n 

onwards. “Why should you abuse it ? We 
go on day and night, night and day. Up- 
wards and onwards — to heaven, for all 
you know. I defy you and your old-world 
ideas and romances. We are going down 
to Roederay to paddle about where we 
choose, catalogue your dead people and 
their beliefs as we choose, and we are 
going to eat our dinner and kill every- 
thing we see. There is one of the slayers 
in the stream, Arthur Weeks, the best 
shot in England, so people say. Ah ! 
Captain Weeks, Mr. Wilson tells me you 
are coming to Roederay. I am glad.” 

“Charity, Lady Maud,” began the gal- 
lant warrior. 

“ That is not your bird, Captain Weeks! 
Mr. Lockhart, my cousin Eustace, and the 
professor have all blazed away at that 
poor joke already. Of course, your gun 
would bring it down, but please be merci- 
ful. Let it go for another day.” 

“That reminds me, Gordon,” said the 
captain confidentially to Lady Maud’s 
cousin, when the laugh had ceased, “ I 


12 


In the Tideway 


was speaking to old Snapshot about Roe- 
deray, and he assures me that the birds lie 
like stones in that part. Something, he 
said, to do with the Gulf Stream — but I 
don’t know much of these scientific things, 
Lady Maud. Only I assure you he de- 
clares you can kick ’em up and shoot 
’em like chickens on the last day of the 
season.” 

There was a solemn pause. The advan- 
tages of Roederay seemed exhausted on 
all sides. 

“ If some one will give me his arm,” 
said Lady Maud, rising, “ I will go up- 
stairs — to Paradise, perhaps, Mr. Lock- 
hart. I really must say how do you do to 
our hostess before going on to the next.” 


“ Any luck, Rick ? ” called a lady sitting 
on the doorstep of Eval House to a young 
man coming up the ferry-path. His rod 
was balanced level in his hand, his head 
bent forward against half a gale of wind, 
which, after sweeping the grass slopes 
into silvery waves, raced with white horses 
over the greener sea beyond. Yet on the 
doorstep, with the stone house betwixt you 
and the nor’west, the day was warm and 
still as any autumn day can be when a 
bright sun shines clear out of a brilliant 
blue sky. 

She was a very small lady, looking 
all the smaller because the energy ex- 
pressed in every line of face and figure 
suggested its adequacy for the direction of 
a far larger mass of matter. Looking still 
13 


14 


In the Tideway 


smaller at that particular moment by rea- 
son of her being overwhelmed by a fleecy 
lamb she was endeavouring to feed with a 
teapot. For the rest, a lady long past 
youth, yet with sufficient traces of it left 
to show that it had been pre-eminently 
attractive. 

“ Luck, Aunt Will ? Why, yes, the 
best of luck. I’ve seen the most beautiful 
woman in the world.” 

Miss Willina smiled. 

“ Who will that be now ? And is 
it twenty or twenty-one you are next 
month? Twenty-one, is it — yes: time 
passes. Then as you are so near man’s 
estate it won’t be Maclead’s niece from 
Glasgow; she is too red in the face. Nor 
Katie Macqueen ; you’ve seen her too 
often. Nor me, either, Rick, though I 
used to be called that sometimes.” 

The transparent vanity in her tone made 
her nephew smile in his turn. 

“ It’s no home-grown beauty, Aunt Will. 
It’s a London belle, — Lady Maud Wilson. 
You should just — ” 


i5 


In the Tideway 

The sudden upset of a lamb, whose four 
pointed toes strove for foothold against his 
legs, checked further speech. His aunt, 
however, waving the teapot in her excite- 
ment, filled up the pause, aided by a sick 
gosling which had fluttered down from her 
lap as she rose. 

“The Wilsons! Why didn’t you tell 
me at once ? Have they come at last ? 
And why didn’t they come before? And 
where are their servants ? Why didn’t 
they send word to the factor ? And goody 
gracious me, Rick ! what are they going 
to do ? ” 

“ If you’ll put that teapot at a safer dis- 
tance and prevent Baalam from making 
me curse utterly, I’ll try and explain.” 

A minute of frantic shoving, joined by a 
chorus of hounds from within, and Miss 
Will Macdonald returned breathless to her 
seat on the steps, while the sick gosling 
fluttered to her lap once more. 

“This is what I could gather. They 
have been deer-stalking with friends, be- 
cause the grouse here were reported late. 


1 6 In the Tideway 

So they are, Aunt Will, I saw a covey 
yesterday — • ” 

“ Skip, please.” 

“ Ahem ! Well, their servants came by 
last Clansman ; or rather they didn’t, 
because — ” 

“Skip again. I know — too rough for 
her to put in — won’t come till return trip. 
Go on, dear.” 

“How you do bustle a fellow! They 
expected cooks and scullions. All the 
show, in fact, including a but — ” 

“ Oh ! do skip ! ” 

“ My dear aunt ! you should have been 
a telegraph clerk. Well. Wrote for a 
machine to Carbost. Came along. Place 
shut up. Rick Halmar fishing sea pool. 
Saw signals of distress. Piloted ’em to 
harbour. Found Kirsty stacking peats. 
Lit the fire. Put on the kettle. Came 
home to tell his aunt. That is all, except 
that the factor is away to the Alan market 
and Kirsty has no English to speak of.” 

“ They have servants with them of 
course ? ” 


In the Tideway 


!7 


“A French maid. She is more solid 
than she looks. You see I had to help 
her out of the machine. She hadn’t re- 
covered the boat. They have been visiting 
about, and Mr. Wilson’s man got left be- 
hind at Inverness, looking for lost lug- 
gage. Wired to say he would come on by 
the afternoon boat. Ha! ha! good joke, 
isn’t it ? Afternoon boat to Roederay. 
Now then, jump aboard ! a penny all the 
way.” 

Miss Willina’s sympathetic soul saw no 
cause for mirth in the vision conjured up 
by her housewifely imagination. She put 
on the deer-stalker cap lying on the step 
beside her. It was a signal for action, 
since, within the home precincts, she dis- 
pensed with any head covering save the 
thick masses of dark hair, which were still 
her greatest pride. 

“I’ll go over. Kirsty is an idiot, at best. 
She was six whole months learning the 
‘ Happy Land ’ at Sunday-school. 

“ Besides it’s not far — then your uncle’s 
official position.” 


1 8 In the Tideway 

“ Skip, please ! ” interrupted Rick, laugh- 
ing. “You don’t want excuses for being 
a trump. Come along.” 

His aunt’s blue eyes flashed and spar- 
kled. “ Oh ! my dear ! was she so pretty 
as all that? You won’t be wanted! her 
husband is there, of course.” 

“ Aye ! and her cousin, I think. At 
least, she called him Eustace.” 

“Two of them! Then preserve us from 
a third man. Go you and fish like a 
Christian.” 

“ Leaving you to roam the moors alone, 
when I may be appointed to a ship to- 
morrow and not see you again for — don’t 
laugh in that rude way, Aunt Will ! Look 
here ! Let’s compromise. I’ll go so far 
and fish Loch-na-buie till you return.” 

They passed the slight hollow where 
Eval House sought a faint shelter, and 
the farm-yard whence, after depositing the 
sick gosling, Miss Willina had to escape 
at a run from a motley following of birds 
and beasts. So to the level stretches of 
moor and the full force of the blustering 


19 


In the Tideway 

wind. A strange landscape to southern 
eyes. Earth, air, and water blent in a 
triple alliance so close as to destroy indi- 
viduality. The sea lay landwards, the 
land seawards, and over both the nor’- 
wester swept unrestrained, cresting green 
waves of heather as water with an edging 
of white foam or purple blossom. Were 
those hills, eastward across the Minch, or 
clouds? Was that level streak of light 
westwards the Atlantic or a glint of sky ? 
Was the water showing at your feet be- 
tween miniature cliffs of sphagnum moss 
salt or fresh ? And did the land really 
sway before the wind ? or was it only your 
footstep making the spongy soil rise and 
fall ? This, however, was in the low 
ground eastward. Westward the rocks 
began to pile themselves gregariously in 
cairns, and the moorland rose gradually, 
so gradually that when its edge was 
reached you were surprised to find your- 
self so far above the shining plain of sea. 

Here on a promontory commanding a 
magnificent view, and also a perfect ex- 


20 In the Tideway 

posure to all the winds of heaven, stood 
the modern shooting-box of Roederay 
Lodge. 

Substantial enough for the nineteenth 
century, yet reminding one irresistibly of 
those Swiss chalets in boxes which are to 
be bought for a sixpence in the Lowther 
Arcade. The fault, no doubt, of its sur- 
roundings; above all, of a sound which 
seemed to monopolize the whole landscape, 
— the sound of the Atlantic rolling in upon 
two miles of shelving sand a little to the 
southward. A sound that went on night 
and day, day and night, without a pause. 
Rhythmically true to a second, not to be 
shut out by any device of man. The 
strongest must put up with it or go away. 
On this particular September day, with 
the keen bright nor’wester sending a 
cross sea round the point, its voice had a 
querulous ring in it very different from 
the roar which echoed for fifteen miles 
across the island when the Atlantic was in 
a southwesterly mood. 

Rick Halmar, however, being a sailor 


21 


In the Tideway 

accustomed to the sea in all tempers, 
took little heed of its tone. He sat to 
leeward of a cairn which tradition said 
marked the grave of a Viking, and whit- 
tled away at a piece of wood he had found 
close by, the pretence of fishing having 
been set aside when Miss Willina’s decided 
little figure disappeared from sight. He 
whittled with more than the sailor’s ordi- 
nary dexterity ; for his father had been a 
Norwegian sprung from a long line of 
ancestors who had whiled away the winter 
days when their ships were in dock with 
wood-carving. Not much else save that 
trick of the knife, a straight Norse nose, 
and a passion for the sea had Eric Halmar 
inherited from the father he had never 
seen. For within a year of that hasty 
marriage between the shipwrecked sailor 
and Miss Willina’s younger sister, pretty 
little Mrs. Halmar was in Eval House 
once more, weeping and waiting. Weep- 
ing for her handsome husband ; waiting for 
her child to be born. She wept even after 
the waiting was over, till consolation came 


22 


In the Tideway 


in the shape of another husband ; for she 
was not a person of great steadfastness, 
and even her land prejudice against the 
sea as a profession had given way before 
Miss Willina’s stern common sense. 

“The laddie thinks of nothing else,” 
said his aunt; “indeed, why should he, 
seeing he comes of pure Viking blood on 
the one side, and something of it on the 
other, if old tales be true ? Send him to 
the navy ; then if he is drowned, it will be 
decently in the Queen’s uniform.” 

So into the navy he went, and, having 
passed through Greenwich, was now await- 
ing orders at Eval ; where he found a most 
congenial playmate in his aunt. 

His still beardless face dimpled with 
smiles as he worked. To begin with, the 
wood, which had evidently been used as a 
cow peg, was mahogany. In other words, 
it must have been stolen from the drift pile 
on which his uncle, by virtue of his official 
position, was supposed to keep an eye, since 
the logs which the Gulf Stream leaves in 
its course are Government property. This 


23 


In the Tideway 

amused Rick, seeing that the mere sugges- 
tion of such nefarious possibilities was a 
sure bait to his uncle’s anger. Then the 
subject he had elected to carve seemed to 
him amusing. It was a replica of a 
Numbo Jumbo he had seen amongst the 
Caribbees, and which had tickled his fancy 
by its lavish ugliness. So his knife being a 
perfect tool-chest of implements, he gouged 
and punched, chiselled and filed, until, as 
he stuck the pointed end of the peg into 
the ground again, a very creditable copy of 
a malignant god stood before him. 

“ It’s the best I’ve done yet,” he said to 
himself ; “ that dodge of the bread-pellet 
eyes with the shot in the middle of them 
gives the old devil quite a live look.” 

He was not yet twenty-one, and boy 
enough to be proud of the ingenuity which 
had converted some sandwich crumbs and 
the lead off a cast into a pair of evil eyes. 
Man enough, however, to whistle “ Who is 
Sylvia ? ” as he leant back against the cairn, 
smiling at Numbo Jumbo and thinking of 
Lady Maud. 


24 


In the Tideway 


“ Rick ! you bad boy ! ” cried his aunt’s 
eager voice just as he was beginning to 
forget everything in drowsiness. “You 
promised you wouldn’t when I threw the 
last into the Minch, and this is worse, ever 
so much worse ! ” 

“ Better, you mean. It’s the best I’ve 
done. Look at its eyes ! ” Miss Willina 
pretended to shudder as her hand, instinct 
with righteous vengeance, went out towards 
the idol. 

“You might leave it there till we go,” 
pleaded Rick. “ It really is the best I’ve 
done by a long way. Then you could take 
it home Aunt Will, and have a real auto- 
da-fe. It’s more orthodox than drowning; 
besides, it will help the peats to a blaze 
when we go in.” 

She burst out suddenly into an amused 
laugh. “ Peats ! ” she echoed. “ Ah, Rick ! 
if you had only seen them at Roederay. 
The room full of smoke, that lovely girl — 
she is beautiful, my dear — full of apologies. 
They took so long to kindle, she said. 
‘ Excuse me,’ said I, ‘ but you mustn’t mis- 


25 


In the Tideway 

call a peat fire. It is the most hospitable 
one in the world.’ They were all lying 
crisscross like a crow’s nest, and you 
should have seen her relief when I had 
them standing shoulder to shoulder and 
they flared up like a Highland regiment at 
the skirl of the pipes. A little thing that, 
Rick, but so it was in all. I laughed till I 
cried. That house full of telephones, elec- 
tric bells, hot-water pipes — all the modern 
whims — the factor says people won’t take 
a shooting unless there is a fixed bath now- 
adays. Well ! downstairs Kirsty and Janet 
the herd ; four willing hands and no know- 
ledge. I tell you, Kirst is just terrified of 
the dampers. ‘Will it be blowing down 
the house, Miss Willina ? ’ she says.” 

“ Skip, please.” 

The remark met with a scornful neglect. 

“ Then upstairs those three with the know- 
ledge but never a hand. Brains — at least 
two of them had, for the husband seemed 
fickless and no action. There they couldn’t 
understand each other, and Mr. Wilson 
went about with his hand in his pocket, 


2 6 In the Tideway 

asking if a five-pound note would do any 
good. 

“ My dear sir,” said I, “ neither five, nor 
ten, nor fifteen will help us if the Clansman 
can’t put in to-morrow. So let us pray for 
fine weather.” Then I promised to lend 
them our cook, and we became great friends. 
Only, I don’t know why, I felt all along as 
if something was going to happen ; a sort 
of conviction things were going wrong ; a 
kind of doubt whether we were in our right 
places; a description of — ” 

Miss Macdonald’s presentiments were 
apt to embrace all things visible and in- 
visible, so Rick made haste with a remark. 

“ And what did you think of the other 
man, — Eustace ? ” 

The shot was lucky. She paused and 
sat looking out over moor and sea with a 
mysterious expression of self-complacent 
sagacity. 

“ Well, auntie ? you think — ” 

“ Nothing, my dear. Gracious goody ! 
past four o’clock ! the chickens not fed, the 
cows out in the wind, the ducklings still 


In the Tideway 27 

at the stream, the whole blessed Noah’s 
Ark.” 

She had risen with the first word, and 
started off like a lapwing, so that, ere she 
finished, distance deadened her voice. 

‘‘Wait! please wait,” shouted Rick; “the 
animals went in two by two, remember ! ” 
It was of no avail ; so he caught up his 
rod and ran after her, leaving the idol to 
fulfil Miss Willina’s r61e of sphinx. 

It had been dark some hours before she 
dropped her knitting with a purposely 
dramatic start. 

“ Oh, Rick ! didn’t I say I had a presen- 
timent ? Now I’ve gone and left that 
wicked idol on the harp — on the Alt na 
heac harp of all places in the world, and 
you a descendant of the Vikings ! ” 

Rick, at work on an infant Samuel for 
his aunt’s room, looked up cheerfully. 

“ Well, what has that to do with it ? ” 

“ What ? why, everything. Don’t you 
know the legend? Everything left on 
that harp disappears. The dead take it as 
a tribute, and if they don’t like it, they 


28 In the Tideway 

send it back to work evil to the living for 
a month and a day.” 

“ Willina ! ” 

Mr. John Macdonald was a silent man, 
but when he did speak, his meaning was 
clear. “ Where the devil you get all that 
rubbish passes me. I’ve lived longer in 
this island than you, I’ve seen more of the 
people than you, yet I never heard such 
trash.” 

He dived back into his book as suddenly 
as he had emerged from it, and there was 
a dead silence. 

“ Never mind, auntie,” whispered Rick 
sympathetically ; for these outbreaks were 
almost the only things which upset Miss 
Willina’s majesty. “ I’ll go first thing and 
bring Numbo Jumbo back to be burnt.” 

“ Pray do not trouble,” she replied with 
an audible sniff. “ If I am foolish, I am 
foolish. If it is rubbish, I suppose it is 
rubbish. Only if anything happens, per- 
haps you will be considerate enough to 
admit that I foretold it.” 

Her hurt dignity, however, vanished 


29 


In the Tideway 

before Rick Halmar’s face, when he came 
in to breakfast next morning minus the idol. 

“ Gone ! Oh, Rick ! you don’t mean it 
isn’t there?” she cried, in not displeased 
excitement. “John! do you hear? It’s 
gone, and you said it was rubbish. What 
do you say now ? ” Mr. Macdonald affected 
not to hear. 

“Yes, it’s gone,” said Rick. “Numbo 
Jumbo’s on the loose. I expect, really, 
that some of the crofter’s children have 
taken it for a doll.” 

“ It is all very well for your uncle to 
scoff, Eric, but the young should have 
more reverence for the wisdom of their 
elders,” retorted his aunt severely. 

“But Aunt Will! — you don’t really 
believe — ” 

“ I am not responsible for my beliefs to 
you , Eric, whatever you may be to me, and 
perhaps if you have no respect for me as 
your aunt, you will please to recollect that 
I am also your godmother. It all comes 
of disobedience. ‘ Thou shalt not make to 
thyself — ’ ” 


30 


In the Tideway 


Rick leant back in his chair and roared. 

“ And if you can’t even remember that,” 
she went on, bristling with dignity, “you 
might recollect the punishment meted out 
to the children who mocked at the bald 
heads.” 

She paused, her hand went up suddenly 
to her coils of hair, she tried hard to keep 
her countenance, failed, and Mr. Macdon- 
ald’s deep-toned laughter made a bass to 
her treble and Rick’s tenor. That, nine 
times out of ten, was the end of Miss Wil- 
lina’s wrath. 


II 

“ I found it,” said Professor Endorwick, 
laying Numbo Jumbo on the drawing-room 
table at Roederay, “ as I was coming over 
the moor this morning, in order, Lady 
Maud, to finish a delightful walking tour 
by a still more delightful visit. Oddly 
enough, I found something similar on the 
Grada Sands yesterday, but this, I fear, is 
genuine, and therefore quite uninteresting. 
I have it in my knapsack if you will allow 
me. There ! from the fracture you will 
observe that it has formed part of a handle, 
probably the paddle of a war canoe, as this 
grotesque, which represents the savage con- 
ception of Ate or Fate, is generally used 
for that purpose. It has drifted here, 
doubtless in the Gulf Stream, is therefore, 
as I said before, uninteresting, since most 
31 


32 


In the Tideway 


museums possess something of the sort. 
This, however, is very different. It is, you 
will again observe, of very recent construc- 
tion. This, joined to the fact that I found 
it on a harp or Viking’s tomb famous in 
local tradition, points, to my mind, conclu- 
sively towards the survival amongst this 
primitive people of some, if not the origi- 
nal, cult of Fate. I need scarcely say that 
nothing is more difficult to track home 
than the faint footstep of a discredited be- 
lief, simply because rash inquiry results in 
prompt denial. I must therefore be care- 
ful, and I will ask you also, for the present 
at least, to preserve a kindly silence on my 
discovery.” 

He looked round his company as if it were 
a full meeting of the British Association 
after lunch. As a matter of fact, it con- 
sisted of Lady Maud, her husband, and 
Eustace Gordon. 

They had barely finished breakfast when 
the professor, ignorant of their discomfort, 
walked in on them according to previous 
arrangement. Mr. Wilson, a slight, pleas- 


33 


In the Tideway 

ant-looking man with a short beard cover- 
ing his chin, — or want of chin, — had been 
moving restlessly from window to fireplace 
and back again during this speech, now 
drumming with his fingers on the sill, now 
transferring his attention to a fisherman’s 
barometer on the mantelpiece, again slip- 
ping his hands to his pockets as if to force 
himself to quiet. Lady Maud, meanwhile, 
stood by the table looking at Numbo Jumbo 
and the despised original. 

“So you think the one with the eyes 
most interesting ? and I don’t.” She raised 
the flotsam jetsam in her slender hands, 
scanning it more closely. “ I wonder if 
you would give me this, professor,” she 
said suddenly. “ I’ve taken a great 
fancy to it.” 

“ My dear lady ! I am only relieved to 
find you have not chosen the other,” he re- 
plied with a gallant bow. “In either case, 
however, your desire is my law.” 

“ I believe that beast of a thing is going 
down again,” muttered Mr. Wilson from the 
mantelpiece. “The Clansman will never 


34 


In the Tideway 


be able to come in to-morrow. It’s too bad 
of Hooper, upon my soul it is.” 

“ My dear fellow,” remonstrated Eustace, 
“ anything will go down if it is continually 
thumped. It’s a lovely day, a bit blowy, 
but it always blows on this coast. The 
warmth of the Gulf Stream.” 

“ Ah, confound the Gulf Stream ! ” 

Lady Maud turned to her husband in 
surprise. 

“ What is the matter to-day, Edward ? 
I didn’t know a valet was such a hero to 
his master. Why, Josephine hasn’t done 
a hand’s turn since she caught sight of the 
steamer at Oban, but I don’t complain.” 

He muttered something about Hooper 
having been with him for years and stood 
looking gloomily out of the window with 
his back turned to everybody. 

Eustace Gordon gave a half-contemptu- 
ous shrug of his shoulders and a look at 
his cousin. 

“ Come out and see the ghillies, Wilson,” 
he said. “ By the way, I sent to the inn 
for whiskey this morning; you see, pro- 


In the Tideway 


35 


fessor, nothing can be done without it in 
these parts, so I hope you are not a total 
abstainer.” 

The professor coughed gently. “I be- 
lieve I am on principle. But having ob- 
served the fact you mention, I invariably 
carry a flask with me on my walking tours, 
merely, of course, as a means of acquiring 
information.” 

Mr. Wilson burst into sudden boisterous 
laughter. “ A good joke that. Come along ! 
We all have a thirst for knowledge on us 
this morning.” 

Lady Maud, left alone with the two 
carven images, took up the sea-waif and 
carried it off to her own sanctum, where 
she stuck it in the place of honour on 
the mantelshelf. Then, walking to the 
window, she looked out on pale green 
jostling waves and purple-green swaying 
heather. 

“ I wonder when Louisa will turn up,” 
she thought irrelevantly. “After all, she 
would have done better to come on with 
us and get it over, instead of waiting in 


36 


In the Tideway 


the yacht for calmer weather. Suppose it 
were never to calm down ? ” 

She threw open the window with a reck- 
less laugh. The fresh wind raced in, 
bellying the curtains like sails, catching 
her slender figure with such force that she 
was fain to cling to the sash as to a mast. 
So standing, with that background of 
surging sea, and one hand keeping her 
hair from her eyes, she looked as if she 
were adrift and searching the horizon for 
some familiar landmark. 

“ Here’s luck, and wissing you may all 
go back as you came, without any mistakes 
whatever.” 

It was the spokesman ghillie from below, 
toasting the new tenant. She looked down 
to meet Eustace Gordon’s amused eyes 
raised to hers ; she smiled back at him, 
and, closing the window, returned to the 
fireplace. There, under the eye of fate 
personified in the war paddle, the phrase 
“go back as you came” struck her as a 
curious wish, perhaps even a somewhat 
infelicitous one, considering the discomfort 


37 


In the Tideway 

of their arrival. Whereat she laughed, as 
she did at most things. Not all, for Lady 
Maud, despite many attempts, had never 
been able to get the whip hand of her con- 
science. She had to menager it by driving 
round anything at which she thought it 
likely to shy. Her marriage to Mr. Wil- 
son had been approached in this circuitous 
way until its manifest advantages com- 
pletely obscured the central fact that 
she really loved her cousin Eustace. As 
yet repentance had not come to her; in- 
deed, it came hardly to one so full of com- 
mon sense and worldly wisdom as she was, 
but it came sometimes. Once as a child 
it had come suddenly in the sunlit solitary 
room into which she had been set apart 
for reflection, and she had knelt down to 
say nai'vely, “ Oh, God, I’m sorry how ; 
but please don’t make me sorry again, for 
I don’t like it.” 

That, briefly, was still her attitude tow- 
ards the ideal. She did not love her hus- 
band, but she thought him sufficiently 
gentlemanlike and pleasing to save herself 


38 


In the Tideway 


regret. She did, or rather she had, loved 
Eustace, but the idea of either of them 
permitting that past folly to interfere with 
the present they had deliberately chosen 
was absurd. To begin with, they would 
see little of each other, and when they did 
they would carefully avoid the renewal of 
any confidential relations; that was the 
great safety in these cases ; for Lady 
Maud viewed the matter dispassionately, 
as a case. 

She came down to dinner that evening 
in a pale plush teagown, with long sleeves 
falling back from her bare arms, and smiled 
at everything. At the fact that she got 
on perfectly without Josephine’s help; at 
the furtive way in which Kirsty set down 
the dinner, as if it were a bomb, and she 
in a hurry to escape the explosion ; at her 
husband’s continued anxiety about the 
weather ; at the professor’s profuse apolo- 
gies for having intruded on them so inop- 
portunely. 

“Not at all,” she said gaily; “you will 
make a fourth at whist ; Edward loves a 
rubber.” 


In the Tideway 39 

“ I can’t play to-night,” replied her hus- 
band. “ I’ve a headache.” 

“You do look a little flushed; perhaps 
it is the wind.” 

“ The wind ! ” he echoed petulantly ; “ of 
course it’s the wind. Did you ever hear 
anything like it, Endorwick ? I swear I 
never slept a wink last night, what with 
it and that confounded sea. It is enough 
to drive a fellow distracted.” 

“You are as bad as Josephine,” laughed 
his wife. “ She has been in hysterics all 
day until Miss Macdonald’s cook gave her 
a whole tumbler of hot whiskey and water. 
Since then she has been asleep.” 

“ We have all been trying that remedy,” 
put in Eustace. “What with the men 
coming in, and the boats being engaged, 
we shall want more whiskey to-morrow, 
Wilson.” 

“ No, we shan’t,” retorted his host 
quickly ; “I mean it’s beastly stuff, you 
know. I never take anything but claret 
myself.” 

“Awfully difficult to get decent claret 


40 


In the Tideway 


nowadays,” remarked Eustace with the 
ease, to him so delightfully new, of the 
rich man who quarrels with the supply 
and not the price. So the topic passed. 

“ I’ll have a cigar and go to bed; I 
didn’t sleep a bit last night,” said Mr. 
Wilson shortly after they returned to the 
bare drawing-room, guiltless of all decora- 
tion, where Lady Maud’s Parisian tea- 
gown looked so oddly out of place. 

“Take some hot whiskey and water,” 
laughed his wife. “Won’t you all go to 
the smoking-room ? You must be tired, 
professor, after your long walk.” 

But the learned man’s social beliefs for- 
bade cigars when a charming woman was 
the alternative, so he elected to remain. 
Being in reality much fatigued, however, 
he shortly afterwards gave way to the se- 
ductions of semi-darkness and an arm-chair. 
Semi-darkness because Kirsty’s lamp smok- 
ing horribly, they preferred the light of 
the blazing peat fire. Outside the wind 
crooned round the house, — a lullaby to 
ears acquainted with its other notes, but to 


4i 


In the Tideway 

those accustomed to the stillness of the 
south, a banshee wail of coming trouble. 
With the firelight playing on the jet agraffes 
which held the cunning draperies on her 
gleaming bust and arms, Lady Maud was 
a picture few men could look on absolutely 
unmoved ; but if Eustace Gordon felt the 
charm of her beauty, he gave no sign of it 
as yet. They sate there in the semi-dark- 
ness side by side, sometimes silent, some- 
times talking indifferently of indifferent 
subjects. Alone, as utterly alone in the 
world as if they two were the only man 
and woman in it; for the barrier which lux- 
ury raises between one human being and 
another had given way. Supposing, for 
instance, the butler, instead of bobbing up 
and down on the Minch in the Clansman , , 
had been at his post, would they have been 
sitting in semi-darkness uninterrupted by 
inroads for coffee cups, peats, and candles ? 
Again, would any really high-class butler 
have permitted Professor Endorwick to 
snooze undisturbed in his chair, for two 
hours on end ? Not that he did any harm 


42 


In the Tideway 


by his slumbers ; he might have awakened 
at any moment and joined unhesitatingly 
in the desultory talk of those two. True 
enough; yet when, at last, Eustace did 
rouse the learned man by lighting Lady 
Maud’s candle, they both felt that the tete- 
a-tete had not left them quite as it found 
them ; that in some of those half-indiffer- 
ent ordinary remarks a virtue had gone 
out of them. 

She took the light from him, decidedly, 
with a refusal of his offer to pilot her along 
the dark passages ; angry with herself for 
the very thought, she still felt that it would 
be wiser to say good-night here under the 
professor’s eye ; and as she went up the 
dim staircase, she paused to give a glance 
at the sea with a wonder as to when Louisa 
would find calm or courage enough to at- 
tempt the voyage. In a vague way, she 
recognized that things would go more com- 
fortably if she were there. But beyond a 
sense of motion in the deep grey plane 
stretching away to a paler grey horizon, 
she could see nothing. The tide was flow- 


In the Tideway 43 

ing one way or another; that much was 
certain. 

She opened the door of her dressing- 
room softly, so as not to disturb her hus- 
band should he have fallen asleep. A 
great fire burnt bravely in her little sitting- 
room beyond, and something in the unu- 
sual silence of it all enhanced its comfort 
in her eyes. If Josephine had been await- 
ing her as usual, she could not have put 
off the task of undressing in favour of 
sheer idleness by the fire. Her husband 
was right; something in that rhythmical 
surge of the sea made one not exactly rest- 
less, but on the alert ; disinclined for action, 
yet prepared for it. A foolish idea, since 
what could be going to happen to the small 
household already, for the most part, asleep ? 
The professor would have taken the first 
opportunity of recommencing that snooze 
legitimately in his bed, and even Eustace, — 
why would her thoughts run on Eustace ? 
Irritated at her own self-consciousness, she 
took up a book impatiently. It interested 
her, and, by and by, she turned for the 


44 


In the Tideway 


second volume, to find that it must have 
been left in the travelling bag which 
Kirsty’s ignorance had put in the bed- 
room. Shading the light carefully, she 
passed through the dressing-room, and so 
into the room beyond, giving a tentative 
glance at the bed as she entered, lest she 
should disturb the sleeper. It was empty. 
Her hand fell from the light ; she looked 
round the room in surprise, and the next 
moment was on her knees beside a figure 
on the floor, — a figure which even in 
her first alarm brought back a horrible 
memory. 

“ Edward ! what is the matter ? Are you 
ill ? ” 

Once, as a slip of a girl out blackberry- 
ing, she had come upon a tipsy tramp in 
a ditch ; a beast of a man who had met 
her innocent benevolence by stumbling to 
his feet, pursuing her as far as his feet 
would carry him. This was her solitary 
personal experience of drunkenness, and 
something in her husband’s look and atti- 
tude revived the dread which had remained 


In the Tideway 45 

with her ever since. Yet he might be ill 

— very, very ill — 

“ Edward ! what is it ? ” 

This time he raised an unsteady arm 
against the candle she held to his face, and 
she shrank back, shaking all over. Her 
first impulse was that of civilization, — to 
ring for help, at least for company. But 
what good would that do in an empty 
house? Josephine, until other women 
came to share her fears, had elected to 
sleep in a great chamber on the upper 
storey. Besides, what good would she be ? 
Kirsty slept outside with the other farm 
servants. Eustace ! no, no ! not Eustace, 

— not now at any rate, — not till she was 
certain. There was the cook, of course; 
people in that rank of life were accustomed 

— oh, no ! no ! it was not possible. What 
a wretch she was to harbour such suspi- 
cions, when he might be ill — perhaps dy- 
ing. With this protest in her mind, her 
rich draperies caught over her arm, the 
candle flaring, guttering, almost out in 
the swift search, she made her way to the 


4 6 


In the Tideway 


unknown regions beyond the swing door, 
which separated work from leisure. Here ? 
No! that must be the pantry. There? 
No ! that was the gun-room. So, peering 
in at each room, she went along the stone 
passages till suddenly a door right in front 
of her opened, and Eustace Gordon came 
out, with a candle in his hand. He had 
been sitting up over the smoking-room fire, 
impelled, as she had been, to wakefulness 
by something, he knew not what. 

“ Maud ! Maud, my darling ! What is 
it ? What is the matter ? ” 

She forgot everything in the comfort of 
companionship as, still shaking with fear, 
she went swiftly to his side. 

“Edward. I think he is ill. Oh, Eu- 
stace, I am so frightened ! ” 

And he in his turn, taken utterly by 
surprise, seemed to forget everything save 
that the woman he loved passionately was 
there beside him. His thoughts had been 
so full of her, nothing but her, and now — 
“Oh, come! please come; he is ill. I 
know he is ill.” 


47 


In the Tideway 

“Yes! I am coming,” he said with an 
effort at self-control. “Where is he — in 
your room ? ” 

Then, with his arm round her, they went 
back through the silent house together. 
Those two alone. Yet not, it seemed to 
her, so much alone as when they stood at 
last with that drunken figure lying on the 
floor between them. She knew the truth 
at once in his quick exclamation, and then 
everything under sun and stars seemed to 
slip away and leave them face to face. 
“ Eustace and she.” “ Eustace and me.” 
The low rush of the waves caught the 
refrain and repeated it ceaselessly. 

“ Don’t be alarmed ; you had better go 
away.” 

She heard the words as in a dream, 
scarcely recognizing the voice in its harsh 
passion. “ Stay, he shall not remain here ; 
not here in your room.” Then she felt his 
hands grip hers, and the voice rang with 
fierce resentment. 

“ Maud ! Maud ! that this should have 
come to you — to you of all people. 


48 In the Tideway 

By heaven, it is too much. I will not 
bear it.” 

She laughed suddenly and broke from 
him. “You mean that he has taken too 
much whiskey. Well ! plenty of men do 
that, and you others think — think none 
— none the worse.” Then she broke 
down, flinging her arms across the bed 
by which she had been standing. “ Oh, 
my God ! what shall I do ? what shall I 
do?” 

Her outburst calmed him. 

“ Go into the other room, dear ; I will 
call some one.” 

She turned on him as she knelt like a 
wild animal at bay. 

“ No ! not the servants ! no one shall 
know. I will not have it. Let me help. 
I am quite strong.” 

“ Do you think I’d let you touch him ? ” 
he burst out. “ Go ! I’ll manage.” 

She crept away, cowed by his vehemence, 
overcome by the desire to obey which sub- 
dues most women when the command is 
from one they love. Back to the fire she 


49 


In the Tideway 

had left so short a time ago. It was dull 
now, but a touch sent the responsive 
flames leaping up the chimney. Would 
any amount of care restore that confi- 
dence in herself which but an hour ago 
had defied fate ? Eustace and she — Eu- 
stace and me. What evil chance was this ? 

She started from a maze of confused 
fear at his knock at her door. 

‘‘Alight, please. You have no bed here, 
and none of the other rooms are fit for you 
to-night ; so I have brought this. I had to 
leave him — there.” 

“Why should you trouble?” she asked 
drearily, with lack-lustre eyes on his bur- 
den of blankets and pillows. “ I can so 
easily sit up ; it must be near morning 
now.” 

He gave her a look so full of passionate 
adoration that her eyes fell before it. 

“ Do you think I am going to let you 
suffer one little bit — one atom of discom- 
fort because of him ? No, that shall not 
be ; you shall never suffer.” 

“ How can you help it ? ” 


50 


In the Tideway 


“How can you ask? We may have 
made a mistake, Maud; perhaps we havrit 
God knows. But if we have, why then — ” 
He came over to where she was standing 
and took her hands in his. So they stood, 
those two alone, with nothing between 
them save a conscience which could be 
turned aside ; every barrier raised by the 
world broken down by a strange fate, by 
a mere turn of the tide. 

“ Good-night, dear,” he said, stooping to 
kiss her. 

She made no reply, no protest ; perhaps 
in her heart of hearts she knew that he 
said the truth. That if it was a mistake, 
why then — 

The waves caught up that refrain also, 
as she lay with wide, sleepless eyes on the 
little camp-bed with which his care had 
provided her. “ It is a mistake — you 
shall not suffer — it is a mistake — you 
shall not suffer.” 


Ill 


When she woke next morning, a be- 
capped and be-aproned upper housemaid 
was bringing in her early cup of tea. 

“ Yes, milady, we ’ave hall come. Mr. 
’Ooper ’e ’ave come too, milady. Indeed, 
if it ’adn’t bin for Mr. ’Ooper, we should 
’ave bin picking hup cattle in that horful 
Minch till hevenin’ ; but ’e took it on ’im- 
self to tell the capting as master would 
willin’ pay hextra for us to come as quick 
as might be. And thankful we was, mi- 
lady, for some of us mightn’t ’ave lived 
to see land.” 

Jane looked as if she certainly would 
have been one of those to succumb, and 
Lady Maud gave a sigh of relief. 

“Tell Hooper to go to his master, — he 
wasn’t very well last night, — and tell Jose- 
phine I shall breakfast in my room.” 


52 


In the Tideway 


“ Mr. ’Ooper ’ave gone to master,” re- 
plied Jane in a voice which implied that 
the reminder was unnecessary; “and if 
you please, milady, Capting Weeks ’e ’ave 
come too. We picked ’im up with some 
cattle in a boat from some place as begins 
with an ‘ Hoich.’ ” 

Lady Maud gave another sigh of relief. 
The sand-bags of civilization were a great 
protection after all ; and if Captain Weeks 
had come, Eustace would go out shooting 
with him. That would give her a whole 
day to face the situation. Honestly, she 
thought far more of possible difficulties 
with him than with her husband. The 
shock had been terrible at the time, but 
perhaps, after all, it was an isolated offence. 
Heaps of men in society got drunk de- 
cently out of sight of their legal women- 
kind, and no one thought — The recur- 
rence of the phrase she had used the night 
before made her pause and hide her face 
in the pillow in sudden horror at herself 
and him. No ! without going so far as 
that, one could still be rational. Edward 


53 


In the Tideway 

was devoted to her, and if a wife by her 
influence made a better man of her hus- 
band, wherein lay the degradation ? Last 
night — great heavens ! what had come 
over her last night ? She had been taken 
by surprise, placed in conditions which no 
one could possibly have foreseen, dragged 
by main force from every shelter. Her 
face burnt as she remembered, and yet 
how natural it had been ! Natural and 
therefore absurd, ridiculous. To-day, how- 
ever, was different, and so the little pen- 
cilled note from Eustace, which Josephine 
brought in with the breakfast, received no 
reply save a message to say she was per- 
fectly well and hoped he would look after 
Captain Weeks, if Mr. Wilson was not 
able to go out. A bold parry, which made 
Eustace Gordon set his teeth. 

Yes ! to-day was different ; a new heaven 
and a new earth. The very house trans- 
formed; for when she came down to 
lunch, the drawing-room was full of tables, 
screens, photographs, and ferns, while in 
the dining-room the butler stood ready to 


54 


In the Tideway 


remove the silver covers, and so let loose 
the pent-up energies of two footmen who, 
with bent heads, seemed waiting for some 
one to say grace. Mr. Gordon, the report 
ran, had taken Captain Weeks to the 
Carbost beat, and would not be back till 
late. Her ladyship was to open any tele- 
gram which might come, as it would relate 
to the yacht. Mr. Wilson had gone to 
shoot rock-pigeon with the head keeper. 
The professor was exploring, and begged 
her ladyship not to wait lunch for him. 
So said the butler gravely as he filled her 
glass. Through the window she could 
see the Atlantic guiltless of a white feather, 
and her own courage rose with the out- 
look. As she strolled about the heathery 
knolls after lunch, a boy on a pony 
appeared with the expected telegram. 
“ Started, should be with you to-morrow.” 
So that was an end of one trouble. Then 
Cynthia Strong and some others were to 
come by the next boat. Will Lockhart 
was cruising about the coast and might 
look in on them at any time. There would 


55 


In the Tideway 

be no more solitude ; not even to-day, 
since there across the moor came Miss 
Macdonald, attired for calling, and beside 
her that good-looking young sailor. Lady 
Maud liked boys, especially handsome 
ones with palpable adoration in their blue 
eyes. 

The professor, coming in very hot about 
tea-time, found the trio having it like chil- 
dren out in a bieldy bit by the burn, but 
with the butler solemnly presiding over 
the fire. A fire which gave James, the 
under footman, the hugest delight until 
his enjoyment was crushed out of him 
by his superior officer. For the butler 
knew his duty : afternoon tea was after- 
noon tea wherever her ladyship chose to 
take it ; that is to say, a function at which 
a footman must preserve an impassive 
face. So poor James put on the sticks 
with funeral calm and burnt his fingers 
with great decorum. 

“ Here is a lady, professor,” said Lady 
Maud, — “ Miss Macdonald — Professor 
Endorwick, — who will tell you every- 


56 


In the Tideway 


thing you can possibly want to know 
about the island. She is a mine of use- 
ful information ; at least I have found 
her so.” 

That gracious voice, face, and manner 
had been a sort of rapture to young Rick 
Halmar for the last half hour, and when, 
after launching the others into conversa- 
tion, she turned to him with the undefin- 
able change in manner she could no more 
avoid in talking to men than the magnet 
can keep its influence, his heart gave 
quite a throb. 

“ I didn’t introduce you,” she said, smil- 
ing, “because I only know your Christian 
name; and I’m not sure of that.” 

“ Rick ! Rick Halmar,” he replied with 
a blush which took him by surprise ; for 
he was not as a rule self-conscious. 

“ Rick ? ” she echoed curiously. 

“Eric. My father was a Norwegian. 
But it was a boshy name and the fellows 
on the Britannia called me ‘ Little by 
Little’ — after the book, you know.” 

She laughed. “A very inappropriate 


In the Tideway 57 

name, Mr. Halmar. You must be six 
feet.” 

He shook his head. “ Five feet eleven 
and three-quarters. It’s too big for a 
sailor. You get in the way of the ropes 
and things.” 

“Not too big for a man — but listen! 
the professor is overcome already; how 
delightful!” 

In good sooth he was actually reduced 
to the position of listener, an isolated 
assertion of interest being all the speech 
allowed him as Miss Willina waxed elo- 
quent over the crass superstitions of the 
islanders and her own select beliefs. 

Rick’s face grew brimful of smiles. 

“ Aunt Will is as bad as the best, herself. 
Why, the other day I carved out a sort of 
devil, — a thing they worship in the Carib- 
bees, — and she was in quite a taking be- 
cause it was left out on a harp , — that’s a 
Viking’s tomb, Lady Maud. She has some 
rigmarole about ‘tribute to the dead,’ their 
sending back things to work evil to the liv- 
ing. But, do you know, Lady Maud, it’s 


58 


In the Tideway 


awfully rum, but I couldn’t find the thing 
when I went to look for it yesterday morn- 
ing.” 

“ You couldn’t find it ? Mr. Halmar, don’t 
speak loud ; don’t attract their attention by 
looking surprised! Was it — the devil, I 
mean — fearfully ugly ? ” 

“ The best I ever made.” 

“ Had it white eyes with a shot stuck in 
them ? ” 

“ Lady Maud ! did you find it ? ” 

“Not I, but the professor did. It’s a 
footstep of a discredited belief, and he is 
going to lecture on it to the British Asso- 
ciation. Isn’t it perfectly lovely ? How we 
shall all laugh ! ” 

“ But you will tell him, of course ? ” 

“Tell him ! Why should I ? These things 
are one of my chief joys in life.” 

Rick Halmar winced. “ But don’t you 
see, Lady Maud, it’s my fault more or less ? 
I oughtn’t to go carving devils and leaving 
them about. It isn’t fair.” 

She raised her eyebrows. “When you 
are older, Mr. Halmar, you won’t be so 


In the Tideway 


59 


eager to accept responsibility. By the way, 
does yours extend to another devil of the 
same sort which was found on Grada 
Sands?” 

He let his head drop into his hands in 
comic despair. “ How one’s sins do find 
one out ! It must be the one Aunt Will 
flung into the Minch. Everything comes 
round sooner or later to the sands. Has 
the professor got it too ? ” 

“No, Mr. Halmar. /have it.” 

“ You ! Oh, Lady Maud — I am sorry.” 

“You well may be. I have put it into 
my own room because the professor de- 
clared it was genuine — a real savage fate. 
No — that isn’t true, so don’t distress your- 
self. I took a fancy to it. I have a habit 
of taking fancies to things and to people ; 
so there it shall remain.” 

Rick’s face lit up. “ Let me make you a 
better one,” he began. 

“ I said, Mr. Halmar, that I took a fancy 
to it ; and now, don’t you think you should 
make your confession like a good boy ? ” 

He made it very prettily, but with a frank 


6o 


In the Tideway 


enjoyment of the mistake, which was infec- 
tious. So much so, that the chief sufferer, 
stimulated into unusual playfulness by Miss 
Willina’s wit, actually went into the house 
for his discredited belief and brought it out 
for her to burn. 

So, with much laughter, they stood round 
the fire, causing poor James almost to burst 
under his efforts after dignity, till suddenly, 
with something between a chuckle and a 
cough, the butler himself gave way into the 
remark that “ I ’adn’t made a Guy Forks — 
kck-kh-kh — since ’e was a boy, — kh-kh-kh, 
— but if ’er ladyship pleased, Jeames could 
run round to the gun-room for some powder 
and ’e’d ’ave some squibs ready in no time.” 

So Numbo Jumbo was burnt with all the 
honours, and the butler, going back for 
his own tea to the housekeeper’s room, 
hummed, “ Remember, remember, the fifth 
of November,” until the cook, with a snort, 
asked wherever to goodness he had picked 
up such a vulgar ditty. 

“Now I have no doubt all you learned 
people think me very foolish,” said Miss 


In the Tideway 61 

Willina, drawing on her gloves with the air 
of one who has completed a good work; 
“ but I really am immensely relieved in my 
mind. I had a presentiment about that devil 
of Rick’s; besides, these old superstitions 
invariably have their origin in some funda- 
mental fact or law of Nature. Don’t you 
think so, professor ? ” 

“ U ndoubtedly, my dear madam ; the Folk- 
lore Society — ” 

But Miss Willina had a profound con- 
tempt for all societies and proclaimed it 
cheerfully. “Therefore, the only remain- 
ing thing to be done,” she continued, shak- 
ing her head at Rick, “ is to make restitution 
for that naughty boy’s mischief. So, if you 
will walk over to Eval some day, Mr. Endor- 
wick, I will give you that bone ring with 
the Runic inscription about which I was 
telling you.” 

“ My dear lady,” cried the professor with 
greed in his eyes, “ I really could not 
dream — ” 

“ I don’t want to give it to you, of course,” 
she went on frankly; “ but my brother says 


62 


In the Tideway 


it should be in a museum ; so you can put 
‘ Given by Miss Macdonald through Pro- 
fessor Endorwick ’ on the ticket. And, by 
the bye, it was found on Grada and Mal- 
colm, Aig says.” 

Meanwhile Lady Maud had turned to 
Rick with a quizzical smile. “ Do you ac- 
cept the responsibility of my fate, Mr. 
Halmar? or shall I have a private auto- 
da-fe in my room? ” 

The boy’s face positively shone with 
pleasure as he took her hand to say good- 
bye. 

“ I couldn’t do anything that would bring 
you harm, I think — you are too — too 
beautiful.” The absolute simplicity of the 
statement rendered it inoffensive, and Lady 
Maud laughed. 

“ Take your nephew away, Miss Mac- 
donald; he is paying me compliments.” 

“ I don’t wonder at it,” retorted the little 
lady, nodding her head, “and compliments 
are pleasant things ; at least, I used to find 
them so.” 

“ Why employ the past tense, dear lady ? ” 


63 


In the Tideway- 

said the professor with a bow, as he shook 
hands, whereat Miss Willina declared that 
the only safety lay in flight ; and Lady Maud, 
as she went back to the house, told herself 
once more that to-day was very different 
from yesterday. This background of per- 
siflage> with just a serious touch here and 
there to help out the chiaro-oscuro, suited 
figures in modern dress. Tailor-made 
figures guiltless of a wrinkle and oblivious 
of vitality’s claim for an uncrushed organ 
or two. 

“If her ladyship please,” said Josephine, 
when the dressing bell brought her to her 
mistress’ room, “ Mr. ’Ooper, he desire a 
few word of milady.” 

“ Hooper ! didn’t they say he had gone 
with Mr. Wilson ? ” 

“ Monsieur ’ave just return ; Mr. Gordon 
also wid Capitaine Veek and — Mon Dieu ! 
quel gibier ! Sail I bid him come ? ” 

Lady Maud, at the writing-table, rested 
her head on her hand, feeling a sudden 
need of courage. They had all come back, 
and some things must be faced before life 


6 4 


In the Tideway 


could run smoothly once more. Eustace 
must be made to understand that there 
was to be no drifting, and her husband 
must consent to let her hand be on the 
tiller ropes. 

“Well, Hooper ? ” 

Rather a diffident-looking man ; nervous 
too in his manner. “ I am sorry to have to 
trouble your ladyship, but I think Dr. 
Haddon would wish it, under the circum- 
stances. It is about master, your lady- 
ship.” 

Her heart gave a great throb. “Your 
master, Hooper ? Well ? ” 

The diffident man, holding on to the door- 
knob as for support, cleared his throat. 
“It is a little difficult, my lady, and Mr. 
Gordon, when he spoke to me, was for say- 
ing nothing; but I have been considering 
the matter and I think Dr. Haddon — ” 

“Who is Dr. Haddon?” 

“ I was not quite sure if your ladyship 
knew — anything. But master was under 
Dr. Haddon for a time. It — it is for the 
liquor habit, my lady, and Dr. Haddon is 


In the Tideway 


65 


most successful. He was most successful 
with master. Four years I have been with 
him since we came back from America, and 
never till last night — ” he coughed slightly 
and paused. Lady Maud sate staring at 
him without a word. 

“ I am very sorry, my lady. The other 
servants will tell you how distressed I was 
to be absent from my duty. It arose from 
my not understanding the porter’s accent, 
my lady; but it will not occur again. I 
mean, my lady, that — ahem — nothing of 
the sort will occur again. So there is no 
need for — for distress or anxiety.” 

“ You mean that as long as — as you are 
with Mr. Wilson — ” so far she managed 
in a cold hard voice ; then came silence. 

“ Just so, my lady — it is a question of 
influence. I undertake the entire respon- 
sibility. There is really no cause for 
alarm.” 

“ That — that will do, Hooper ; you can 
go.” Her one thought was to get rid of 
this man, this servant, who seemed to have 
reached out his common hand and touched 

F 


66 


In the Tideway 


her very soul. He paused, still with his 
hand on the door. 

“ I beg pardon, my lady, but there is one 
thing. Dr. H addon’s system is based on 
influence. It does not allow any appeal to 
— ahem — to the moral sense. Therefore, 
if your ladyship could kindly treat the mis- 
take of yesterday with silence, it would be 
better — for the system. Dr. Haddon ig- 
nores failure on principle, it — it is part of 
the system ; and any interference may be 
dangerous. Therefore, if your ladyship — ” 

“ I quite understand. You can go.” 

When she was left alone, she sate staring 
on at the door he had closed behind him. 
Behind whom ? why the man who — oh ! 
it was an impossible, an incredible, posi- 
tion ! She had married her husband with- 
out caring for him, but she had married 
him also because she intended that he 
should care for her. And now! What 
was he but a puppet, dependent on this 
man ? She had not married Edward Wil- 
son, but Wilson-cum-Haddon, -cum-Hooper. 
And Eustace knew it ! Her husband, the 


In the Tideway 


67 


possible father of her children ! She had 
known all along that he was a weak man, 
but that the very possibility of his living 
decently lay in the will of another was 
hopeless, horrible degradation. She had 
often in society talked lightly of the part 
hypnotism was to play in the future regen- 
eration of the world ; but now that even a 
suspicion of it touched her inner life, it 
left her in wild revolt. When all was said 
and done, that man to whom they paid so 
many pounds a year was master of her 
fate. It should never be ! Better, far 
better, that her husband should be drunk ; 
and yet what right had she to interfere ? 

“It will be too late to make milady char- 
mante ,” suggested Josephine, coming in, 
reproachfully. 

She stood up hastily with clenched 
hands. Eustace should not see her deg- 
radation — she would show him — 

“There is plenty of time,” she said 
coldly. “Put on my diamonds, Josephine 
— that dress is dull. They can wait if I 
am not ready.” 


68 


In the Tideway 


She was worth waiting for, and Mr. Wil- 
son’s weak face brightened as she went up to 
him with easy grace. “ Did you have a good 
day, Edward ? I saw Hooper for a moment, 
but I forgot to ask him about the sport.” 

She failed in her object for all her bra- 
vado. The eyes she sought to blind saw 
too clearly. 

“ So Louisa comes to-morrow,” she said 
lightly, as, after keeping all the men, her 
husband included, at her feet during the 
evening, she rose to say good-night and let 
her hand linger purposely in her cousin’s, 
so that he should see she did not care, that 
she was not afraid. 

“ No ! ” he replied coldly ; “ I’ve had 
another wire. She came as far as Portree, 
and, hearing that the gathering is next 
week, decided to stay and show off her 
new dresses. She got about a ton of them 
in Paris if you remember, and women, even 
the best of them, love to show off.” 

His tone roused her to reckless resent- 
ment by its assumption of knowledge and 
condemnation. 


In the Tideway 


69 


“ He does not look very sorry for his 
wife’s decision, does he, professor ? ” she 
asked with a laugh. 

“ My dear lady, how could he be sorry 
for anything, in his present position ? ” 

“ Or I in mine ? ” she retorted, giving a 
little mock curtsey over the hand she still 
held. 

Eustace Gordon bit his lip, but said 
nothing. 


IV 


“You look worried,” said Will Lock- 
hart ; “ the place doesn’t suit you. I told 
you it wouldn’t when we hid behind Char- 
ity. Is there anything really the matter?” 
his voice took a softer tone, “anything I 
could help you to set straight ? ” 

They were sitting by the fire in Lady 
Maud’s little sitting-room, whither they had 
retired from the bustle inseparable from 
tea in the drawing-room when bad weather 
keeps even the sportsmen indoors. He said 
the truth ; she looked worn and fagged, 
and her pose as she leant back in her easy- 
chair was one of listless fatigue. 

“ Nonsense ! There is nothing the mat- 
ter; nothing more than the usual worries 
of a hostess in tiresome weather. To 
begin with, it has prevented your coming 
70 


In the Tideway 71 

here till you can only spare us a miserable 
day on your way to rejoin the yacht. 
Then Louisa, after wasting a fine week 
over the Portree gathering, was detained 
there ten days by storm. Finally, just as 
she started for the Highlands one at In- 
verness pour passer le temps , it cleared up. 
Since then it has been what is called un- 
settled ; most of all for poor Eustace, who 
never knows for two days together what 
is going to happen. Then Lady Liddell 
caught cold at a picnic, and Cynthia Strong, 
whom I invited for the professor, — a Gir- 
tonite you know, does mathematics and all 
that, — seems uncertain whether she doesn’t 
prefer Arthur Weeks, a man who hasn’t 
a penny and can’t do a sum beyond the 
compound addition of his bills.” 

“A catalogue of evils, certainly.” 

“That isn’t all. The professor, who 
would make her an excellent husband, be- 
ing in that set and with a charming house 
too at Oxford, does nothing but go over to 
Eval House to see Miss Macdonald — you 
knew her once, I think — well, he looks on 


72 


In the Tideway 


her as an encyclopaedia of discredited be- 
liefs, a unique copy of an ancient work on 
folk-lore which the lucky finder is bound 
to purchase. Besides, she has a valuable 
collection — ” 

“ When I knew her,” broke in Will 
Lockhart hotly, “ she did not need any 
adventitious attractions ; she was simply 
the loveliest — ” 

Lady Maud’s languid hands met in faint 
applause. 

“I thought that would draw you. So 
she was the mauvais quart d'heure. I am 
not really laughing, so don’t be angry; 
only from the way she spoke of you — ” 

“ Did she speak of me?” 

“ How can you ask ? And women never 
speak of the men who have loved them 
in the same tone of voice they use for 
the dense, indiscriminating multitude who 
didn’t.” 

“Then Miss Macdonald’s voice must 
change pretty often.” 

“ Ah ! was that it ? you were jealous.” 

“ Nothing so romantic. We quarrelled 


73 


In the Tideway 

oyer some bread and butter — we were 
very young. Then circumstances favoured 
absence, so forgetfulness came, or at least 
indifference, absolute indifference.” He 
paused for a moment. “ And so the pro- 
fessor is there constantly, is he ? ” 

Lady Maud smiled behind the fan with 
which she screened her face from the fire. 

“ He is there now, I expect. He went 
dune-hunting in the south this morning, 
and was to stop there for the night. 
Thought he might be late; besides, he 
must consult the encyclopaedia.” 

Will Lockhart frowned. “ This has 
made us drift from the point. Your hus- 
band, does he like the place?” 

“ Apparently. And the servants are 
satisfied too, which is a great gain. They 
get all their work done for them by the 
natives. It is an immense relief to shift 
one’s responsibilities to other folks’ shoul- 
ders, isn’t it ? ” 

He looked at her sharply. “ There is 
something the matter. Is it only other 
people’s love-affairs ? And what, for in- 


74 


In the Tideway 


stance, of that handsome boy downstairs 
who does Sir Walter Raleigh’s cloak for 
your Majesty’s feet all day long?” 

Lady Maud leant forward eagerly, her 
whole face alight. “You mean Rick. Do 
you remember once, when you were very 
angry with me, saying I was enough to 
ruin any man in a week ? It wasn’t true, 
Big Bear. I couldn’t spoil Rick Halmar.” 

“ Have you tried and failed ? ” he asked 
cynically. 

She shook her head and a soft half-smil- 
ing, half-tearful look came to her pretty 
eyes. 

“You don’t know him, and I can’t ex- 
plain. Yet I tell you that I couldn’t spoil 
one of that dear lad’s happy days unless — ” 
she broke off suddenly, raising her eyes 
to the image on the mantelshelf. “ He 
carved that devil up there,” she went 
on with the smile gaining on the tears. 
“The professor said it was a savage con- 
ception of fate, but it isn’t. It is Rick 
Halmar’s conception of my fate, and that: 
— well, that hasn’t much of the devil in it. 


In the Tideway 75 

Come! it is time I was returning to my 
duties as hostess.” 

“ Time for me to be going also,” he re- 
plied, looking at his watch. “I have seven 
miles before me.” 

“ Not if you make use of the Eval ferry- 
boat.” She looked at him mischievously. 

“ I do not intend to make use of it, even 
to oblige you, Lady Maud. I might meet 
the professor, and then there would be a 
petty-assault case.” 

“ Of course ! How tiresome you are ! I 
counted on your being here a week at least, 
and people can unmake ever so many 
quarrels in seven days.” 

“ Or make them. But the elements are 
too strong for you, Lady Maud. I told you 
so.” 

Rick Halmar came up as, still smiling 
over the joke, they entered the drawing- 
room. 

“ I’m so glad. I was afraid you might 
not come before I left, and I must go soon.” 

“Then you can pilot Mr. Lockhart a little 
way. He has to walk over to Carbost Bay.” 


76 


In the Tideway 


“A good bit of the way, you mean,’’ re- 
plied Rick, turning his bright face towards 
Will Lockhart’s. “Our ferry is far the 
shortest ; in fact, it’s the only road, for the 
upper-end bridge gave way in the flood last 
night and the stream isn’t fordable yet!” 

Lady Maud’s eyebrows went up archly. 

“What a nuisance the elements are at 
times; aren’t they, Mr. Lockhart?” 

“ I should think so,” assented Rick cheer- 
fully. “ Why, we have been trying to get to 
Eilean-a-fa-ash these three weeks — haven’t 
we, Lady Maud ? — without catching a fine 
day and a suitable tide on the hop together. 
The sea ford might have done last spring, 
but it was too rough for the ladies to return 
by boat, or else too wet. But the first fine 
day. That is it, isn’t it ? ” 

“Yes, Mr. Halmar!” cried Cynthia Strong 
from the window seat where Captain Weeks 
was blissfully useful over a skein of wool. 
“ And please order the fine day soon, for I 
have to go by the next Clansman .” 

“Then I shall go too,” murmured the 
captain. 


77 


In the Tideway 

“I suppose the birds will be getting 
rather wild by that time,” remarked the 
young lady tartly. Theoretically, she felt 
bound to despise her admirer and his occu- 
pations ; practically, his murmurs made her 
heart beat. 

“ Wild ! Why, they lie like stones on this 
coast. Something to do with the Gulf 
Stream, I’m told, though I know nothing 
myself about these scientific things. But 
you can kick ’em up and shoot ’em like 
chickens on the last day of the season.” 

“ And when is that ? ” 

Captain Weeks laughed, — the true man’s 
laugh of surprised tolerance. “ I thought 
you knew everything, Miss Strong ; but I 
don’t suppose they think it worth while to 
teach girls. It’s the ioth of December for 
grouse, but partridges go on till the begin- 
ning of February, and there’s no real close 
time for — ” His voice fell to the confi- 
dential tone. Eustace Gordon had mean- 
while joined the trio at the door. 

“Yes! let it be soon, please; for I may 
be going also. I’ve just heard, Maud, from 


78 


In the Tideway 


Louisa, and the last idea is that I am to 
take the yacht, which she is sending here, 
round to Cowes, and that we are to start 
at once for less uncertain climes. The 
Mediterranean, most likely.” 

“That is very — unexpected. But all 
my friends are flying south, like the swal- 
lows.” 

“And I have to go furthest of all,” said 
Rick ruefully. “ I’m booked for the Pacific 
Station, as sure as fate.” 

“ Then you must send me home a real 
Numbo Jumbo if you come across one,” 
she replied, smiling up into his eager boy- 
ish face with a confidence absolutely free 
from all alloy. 

“ Won’t I ! and some of those jolly shells 
too ; all the pretty things I can pick up.” 

“ Thank you, Rick; I like pretty things.” 

He flushed with pleasure at her tone and 
words. 

“Well, good-bye,” she said, turning to 
Will Lockhart. “ I hope the elements 
won’t be too strong for you.” 

“ Or for you.” 


In the Tideway 


79 


Confidence here also, but of a different 
sort, — the sort which can give a reason for 
the faith that is in it. It seemed, however, 
as if Lady Maud's wish was not to be ful- 
filled ; for as Rick Halmar and his compan- 
ion set off across the moor, the southwest 
wind, even at that distance from the shore, 
sent a shower of spindrift in their faces. 

“No leaving Carbost Bay for you to- 
night,” shouted Rick against the wind. 
“You had better stay at our place. You 
used to know Aunt Will long ago, didn't 
you? ” 

“Yes, but I must get on. It may calm 
any moment, and the yacht sails as soon 
as possible.” 

Nevertheless when, after scudding with 
the wind at their backs for two miles, they 
came upon the ferry, one glance showed 
even Will Lockhart’s inexperienced eye 
that the cockleshell of a boat, bobbing up 
and down in the backwater, could never 
fight its way through that mad mel6e of 
wind against tide in the middle of the nar- 
row stream. Comparative calm reigned 


8o 


In the Tideway 


to one side in the inland loch, and to the 
other in the open sea ; but here the waves 
leapt at each other in pyramids, sending 
jets of spray upwards with the very force 
of their meeting. A good thrower could 
easily have flung a stone across the chan- 
nel ; for all that, it was impassable till the 
tired tide should turn and join the wind in 
its race eastward. So, at any rate, said 
Rick, adding that his aunt would be de- 
lighted at a contretemps which would pro- 
cure her a visit from an old friend. 

Why Will Lockhart should have hesi- 
tated, when it was raining cats and dogs, 
and it was two-and-twenty years since he 
had parted in anger from the hot-headed, 
quick-tongued chit of eighteen, who was 
now, by all accounts, a brisk, contented 
woman of forty, is not easy of explanation. 
Perhaps the thought of Lady Maud’s tri- 
umph rankled ; perhaps, when all was said 
and done, he was not quite indifferent to 
that possible future with the professor. 
But he did hesitate for a moment. That 
early love-affair had strangely enough been 


In the Tideway 81 

his first and last: not because it was in 
itself absorbing, but because other things 
more absorbing than Love had stepped in 
to take possession of his life. For a year 
or two, no doubt, resentment had lingered, 
not very keenly felt, but sufficiently so to 
prevent other love-affairs. Then he had 
painted his first successful picture, and 
that had been an end of all things, save 
Art, and a rather unreal remembrance that 
he had loved and lost. 

However, common sense came to his aid, 
as it was bound to do in that drenching 
rain. And, after all, the professor was 
not in the well-remembered drawing-room 
whither Rick led him ; neither was Miss 
Willina. Fortunately, perhaps, for her 
dignity, of which she was extremely tena- 
cious, she had been in the potting-shed 
feeding a late brood of chickens presented 
to her that morning by an inexperienced 
young mother, who had preferred a bed of 
nettles behind the peat stack to the com- 
forts of the hen-house nursery. So she 
had ample opportunity of seeing them 

G 


82 In the Tideway- 

pass up the ferry-path and of grasping 
the situation ; to say nothing of smoothing 
her hair and washing her hands, before put- 
ting in an appearance ; the which is a great 
support to most women in the crises of life. 
As a matter of fact, however, Miss Willina 
had never regarded this episode of her 
earliest years of conquest as one of su- 
preme importance; perhaps some slight 
inkling that it really did mean more than 
she was prepared to admit was at the bot- 
tom of her deliberate want of romance on 
the subject She had had many admirers, 
had them still for that matter ; she was per- 
fectly aware, for instance, of the professor’s 
interest; but, for all that, she had never 
felt inclined to marry since those salad 
days when she had drowned her resent- 
ment in the knowledge that half the men 
who knew her were at her feet. Why 
should she marry? There was plenty of 
time and opportunity if she wished it ; and 
then, when time passed, leaving her still 
Miss Macdonald, she told herself and 
every one else that it was of her own free 


83 


In the Tideway 

will and pleasure. As it undoubtedly was. 
She scouted regrets, and only when the 
masterful current of her vitality slackened, 
as even hers had to do at times, did she 
wonder if that early love-affair had not 
been at the bottom of her cold-bloodedness. 

Will Lockhart did not think her much 
changed. The daintiness and wilfulness 
he chiefly remembered were still there, 
and it was like old times to hear her 
order him up with Rick, to “change 
his feet,” and see the swift touch with 
which she rescued an antimacassar from 
annihilation when he sate down. And this 
want of change depressed him, by empha- 
sizing the long years which he could not 
forget. 

There she was, much as he remembered 
her, and he — people told him also that 
he had changed but little. Yet in those 
old days it had seemed impossible to con- 
ceive of life apart, and here they were, 
both free, both unmarried, talking calmly, 
with a new generation for listener, about 
that past time. What had kept them sep- 


8 4 


In the Tideway 


arate except their own free will? Noth- 
ing! and yet had either of them deliber- 
ately anticipated this ending when they 
quarrelled over the bread and butter ? 
And now she was thinking of the pro- 
fessor, or at any rate the professor was 
thinking of her. That was Lady Maud’s 
account, and there was certainly a suspi- 
cion of consciousness when the learned 
man’s name was mentioned ; a palpable 
flush indeed, when a faint whistle overbore 
that of the wind, and she started from her 
chair. 

“ Rick ! it can’t surely be Mr. Endor- 
wick ! ” 

The blush made her look years younger, 
and Will Lockhart felt distinctly aggrieved 
at the fact. 

“ By George, it is, though,” replied her 
nephew, after a glance through the field- 
glasses which hung ready for the purpose 
on the window-knob. “There he is on 
the other side of the stream. He has 
hoisted the flag, and is blowing away at 
the whistle like fits. His umbrella’s inside 


85 


In the Tideway 

out, and his mackintosh floating on the 
breeze. Do look, Aunt Will. It’s awfully 
comic.” 

Miss Willina’s face was a study of dig- 
nity and humour ; the first prevailed. 
“ Eric ! I am surprised at your levity. 
The poor man will be drenched to the 
skin, and he so delicate; such a distin- 
guished scholar too ; we could ill afford to 
lose him.” 

“Give me the glass,” said Will Lock- 
hart grimly. The sight of his supposed 
successor signalling for the impossible 
gave him a thrill of satisfaction; for he, 
at least, was on the right side of the 
stream. And then to the keen little 
creature at his side came a mood well 
remembered. 

“ The born idiot ! Any Christian would 
have stopped at the hotel even if he was 
wanting to come on. A fool for his pains ! 
Ah ! what’s the use of blowing like a 
hooter with the wind and tide against you ? 
Gracious goody ! Rick, what’s to be done ? 
The gawk can’t be left there like a wind- 


86 


In the Tideway 


The comparison was not inapt; for the 
professor, seeing them, doubtless, against 
the firelight within, was waving his arms 
frantically. 

“I’ll go down and signal him to that 
bieldy bit behind the big rock. It’s out 
of the wind anyhow, and the tide will be 
turning before he could walk back to 
shelter. And I’ll stop in the boat-house ; 
it will comfort him to see me smoking, 
especially if he has forgotten his matches. 
Besides, I must put new rowlocks to the 
four-oar. We’ll want her, and the men 
too, if any one is to cross the stream to- 
night.” 

“ That’s a nice boy,” said Will Lock- 
hart, putting down the glasses as Rick’s 
figure on its way to the boat-house blocked 
out the professor’s increasing despair. 
“Just about the age I was when — ” He 
paused and looked at his companion. 

“Yes! You were twenty-one, and I 
was eighteen.” 

They were standing close together, the 
firelight throwing their shadows out faintly 


»7 


In the Tideway 

against the growing darkness, but on their 
faces the dull autumn twilight lingered, 
blotting out all traces of the passage of 
time. 

He came a little nearer to her. 

“ I wonder why we quarrelled ? ” he 
said argumentatively. “ I don’t mean 
what we quarrelled about. That was 
never very difficult to find, was it? But 
why did we quarrel finally that last time ? 
I don’t recollect that you were more 
wilful than usual.” 

“ No doubt you were more aggravating,” 
she retorted quickly. “ Do you wish to 
begin it all over again ? I will if you’ve 
a mind to.” 

“ Begin what ? ” 

“ The quarrel, of course.” 

“ No, thank you. There’s the professor 
hauling down his flag ; he has seen Rick, 
and acknowledged his defeat. Good man ! 
Don’t you think, Miss Macdonald, that it 
would be more comfortable by the fire than 
here at the window ? ” 

“ More comfortable than the professor 


88 


In the Tideway 


is, poor man. That is what you mean. 
How selfish all you men are, and then you 
expect me not to see through you!” 

“ I don’t think I ever was quite so exi- 
geant as that, was I ? And, do you know, 
I rather wish you would just cast your eye 
over my innermost thoughts at the present 
moment. It would save me beating about 
the bush.” 

Perhaps, despite her outward calm, she 
was a little excited ; for she had taken up 
her knitting, half mechanically, and now 
the needles clashed fast and furious. He 
was leaning towards her, his elbows on his 
knees, his hands loosely clasped together, 
and something of his youth, not so much 
in its romance as in its imperious desire to 
know and understand, was in his face. 

“Miss Macdonald, I’ve no right to ask, 
but are you going to marry — that man on 
the other side ? ” 

She gave a little conscious laugh, half- 
nervous, half -gratified. “ That is what you 
call beating about the bush, I suppose ? 
Why — why should I marry anybody ? ” 


8 9 


In the Tideway 

For the life of him he could not tell, 
save that in a vague way that dead past 
seemed so pitiful : because it was dead and 
past. “ Why did we quarrel ? ” he repeated. 
“ If the Clansman hadn’t come in unex- 
pectedly that evening after her time, and 
so given me an opportunity of going off in 
the sulks, we should have made it up as 
usual. It seems such a little thing to come 
between us.” 

She laid down her knitting and looked 
at him thoughtfully. A woman less truth- 
ful than Miss Willina might have allowed 
the inevitable satisfaction of being remem- 
bered to give an extra tinge of regret and 
romance to that past, which in sober fact 
had had little of either ; but Miss Willina’ s 
sense of humour was of the rare kind 
which is not blunted by egotism. 

“ Ridiculously little. In the novels — I 
read dozens of them in the winter — it is 
always something pathetic. A letter left 
in a blotting book, or a wrong initial on the 
envelope, or a false announcement of mar- 
riage. Something not to be foreseen or 


9 o 


In the Tideway 


helped. Or if it isn’t the fault of fate, they 
get brain fever and forget their own names. 
But we! We just quarrelled, and didn’t 
care to make it up. It isn’t in the least 
romantic, I’m afraid.” 

“ But we didn’t forget,” he said in the 
same argumentative tone. “At least I 
didn’t.” 

“ Of course not. Does any one ever for- 
get, — absolutely?” Her voice trembled 
slightly. The pathos of memory was not 
to be ignored entirely. 

“ It seems such a pity — you and I lead- 
ing such lonely lives.” 

“Lonely? You should see my Noah’s 
Ark.” 

“Well! Don’t scoff at me. I suppose 
it is absurd, but to-night somehow — ” 

She interrupted him with a soft hand 
laid on his. “Don’t, please don’t. It is 
like children trying to pretend that their 
shadows on the wall are alive. But they 
are shadows; nothing but shadows, and 
the light which throws them — ” she pointed 
to the window with a laugh that was half 


In the Tideway 91 

a sob. “ Poor man ! he ought to be extin- 
guished by this time.” 

“Perhaps you are right,” he replied 
sadly, still holding her hand ; “ but it seems 
hard — the shadows were so pretty.” 

“ Not so pretty as the reality.” 

“What is that?” 

“ That we have met and forgiven each 
other — without payment.” 

“Aunt Will,” shouted Rick, bursting into 
the room, “there’s the professor in the 
front hall dripping like a drowned rat. I 
got the men and ferried him over on the 
first chance; now they are waiting for Mr. 
Lockhart.” 

Miss Willina was on her feet in a moment. 
“Take him upstairs, Rick, and put him to 
bed — between the blankets. I’ll come 
directly with gruel and mustard. And, 
Rick ! give him a good scrub — all over — 
with the roughest — bath towel — you can 
find.” 

The last directions were called up the 
stairs as she went into the hall to see Will 
Lockhart put on his mackintosh properly. 


92 


In the Tideway 


“Good-bye, Miss Macdonald. I’m not 
in the least envious of the professor’s 
immediate future,” he said with smiling 
eyes, but with vague regrets still at his 
heart. “ I’m glad, though, he was at the 
other side of the stream to-night. I liked 
the shadows.” 

“ And the reality ? ” she asked quickly. 

He stooped and kissed the pretty little 
hand browned by sun and wind. “ It is 
like the breath of your sea. The memory 
of it will help to blow away the cobwebs 
until I come back — in the summer.” 

“The summer is over.” 

“ Not St. Martin’s, and one often has a 
spell of fine weather late in the year when 
the earlier portions have been stormy.” 

She shook her head. 


V 

“ Well, Hooper, what is it ? ” 

Lady Maud stood at bay once more, 
with that diffident-looking man at the door. 
Three weeks had passed since his first in- 
terview; only three weeks, and it seemed 
to her an eternity of fear and anxiety. 
But now the letters written in reply to 
hers had come from the American doctor, 
and she knew the worst. Mr. Wilson’s 
case had at once been easy and difficult. 
Easy because of his singular lack of will 
power; difficult for the same reason, joined 
to a very bad ancestral record. So bad 
that his maternal uncle, from whom he 
had inherited his large fortune, being 
deeply resentful of the treatment his sister 
had endured from her drunken husband, 
had burdened his legacy with certain un- 
93 


94 


In the Tideway- 


usual conditions as to sobriety and con- 
trol. Consequently, when, shortly after his 
release from the restraints of minority, the 
inherited tendency had shown itself in Mr. 
Wilson, he had voluntarily placed himself 
in Dr. Haddon’s charge, urged to the step 
by his fear of pecuniary loss. That was, 
briefly, the whole story, save that he, Dr. 
H addon, continued to have charge of the 
case and would be obliged if Lady Maud 
would co-operate with him in continuing a 
system which had hitherto been so success- 
ful, and which, he did not scruple to add, 
was Mr. Wilson’s only chance of fulfilling 
the conditions under which he held his 
fortune. For himself, he believed there 
was no danger of a relapse ; it might even 
be possible after some years to relax the 
supervision, and in any case he begged 
her to remember that the hereditary ten- 
dency must needs be weakened by a gen- 
eration even of enforced sobriety. He 
had hoped that there might be no neces- 
sity for her to be made acquainted with 
these circumstances, as the whole affair 


95 


In the Tideway- 

had been dealt with in the strictest con- 
fidence, and the essence of his treatment 
lay in ignoring the difficulty ; but now that 
the untoward event reported by Hooper 
had occurred, it was better she should 
clearly understand the position of affairs. 
Briefly, he was paid for keeping Mr. Wil- 
son from losing a very large portion of his 
wealth. Apart from that, it was an inter- 
esting case. In regard to Hooper, he was 
thoroughly trustworthy and conscientious, 
— a most necessary thing when influence 
was easy to attain. At the same time, if 
Hooper failed to commend himself to 
Lady Maud, he could be replaced. In 
view of the heavy stake at issue, however, 
he would recommend extreme caution in 
making any change. As for his reasons 
for allowing Mr. Wilson to marry under 
the circumstances, they were manifold ; 
and his belief in the system was so great 
that he felt confident Lady Maud would 
never find cause for blame in her hus- 
band’s conduct. The letter, in its bald 
statement of fact, its assumption of a 


9 6 


In the Tideway 


perfectly satisfactory state of affairs, car- 
ried with it a sort of cold comfort. And 
yet Lady Maud felt a wild revolt against 
it such as no verdict of disease or death 
would have aroused. 

Like most women who marry men to 
whom they are indifferent, she had looked 
forward, odd as it may seem, to having 
children who would give a zest to an other- 
wise insipid life. And now the mere pos- 
sibility was a terror : not in pity for those 
who might come handicapped into the 
race, but from sheer physical horror that 
they should be his and hers. And this 
terror came uppermost in the first few 
minutes of shock. 

“ I have heard from Dr. Haddon this 
morning, my lady. In future I am to take 
my orders from you; so I have come to 
ask for them.” 

The disapproval in his tone was audible. 
She felt a rash, resentful desire to bid him 
go and leave her free, but the doctor’s warn- 
ing checked the words. What if she should 
have burdened her life for nothing, — she 


97 


In the Tideway 

who had refused money again and again 
because it seemed vulgar to her fastidious- 
ness? She might appeal to her husband 
as a man, chance her influence against the 
Hooper-H addon system ; but what if she 
failed ? During those last three weeks she 
had silenced the heart which, despite all 
her efforts, would have its way, by pro- 
testations that she was only awaiting the 
doctor’s reply, that by and by she would 
no longer consent to be this man’s wife on 
these terms. To live on as if she knew 
nothing ; to give neither help nor condem- 
nation ; to acquiesce without a word in a 
future which filled her with shame and 
horror. 

When she knew the facts, she would 
decide, and now she knew too much. 

“I have no orders,” she said in a low 
voice; “no new ones ; you can go.” Then 
suddenly a thought flashed through her and 
she arrested him with a gesture. 

“ Yes, my lady? ” 

Still she was silent, one hand gripping 
the edge of the table, her breath coming 

H 


98 In the Tideway 

fast. “I do not think — this place — is 
good for Mr. Wilson.” 

“Indeed, your ladyship,” broke in Hooper, 
relieved, “ I have thought so myself, — the 
— the irregular habits in regard to spirits 
are trying.” 

“ I think he would be better away.” 

“Exactly so, my lady; only I did not 
like — all the arrangements being, as it 
were, settled.” 

Her voice had gained in steadiness by 
this time. “There need be no alteration. 
I should remain here, of course.” She 
paused, and Hooper shifted uneasily. “ Mr. 
Wilson had an invitation to Perthshire yes- 
terday. I should like him to accept it. Do 
you understand ? ” 

“ But indeed, my lady, I cannot. To 
begin with, I am not allowed by Dr. 
Haddon — ” 

She stopped him angrily. “ If you can- 
not obey me, there are others — so Dr. Had- 
don says. I consider this place is bad for 
Mr. Wilson, and it is my wish he should 
leave it. Do you hear ? ” 


99 


In the Tideway 

For the life of her, try after calmness as 
she would, entreaty and despair made her 
command falter. He must go — if only to 
give her time to think ; time to settle what 
course she would choose. 

“ If your ladyship takes the responsibility 
— in regard to Dr. Haddon, I mean.” 

“ I take it all — the responsibility for 
everything.” 

“ Then I will suggest it. I may not suc- 
ceed ; but I will do my best, and if I fail, 
your ladyship must remember that I was 
not engaged for such work.” 

The grotesqueness of it all struck her 
sense of humour despite the turmoil of 
emotion in which she found herself. 

“ Yes, yes ! ” she said impatiently ; “ I will 
remember it was not your place ! ” 

When he had gone, she stood for some 
time without moving, her hand still grasp- 
ing the table, body and mind alike in a 
state of tension. Then her nerves seemed 
to slacken, the spirit to leave her. She 
walked listlessly towards the fire, and, lean- 
ing her arms on the mantelpiece, rested her 


IOO 


In the Tideway 


head upon them. So standing, the little 
curls about her temples outlined themselves 
against the ugliness of Rick Halmar’s devil. 

“It is not all my. fault,” she muttered 
with a sort of sob ; “ not all my fault, surely. 
I must have time. I must have time.” 

The rest of the day was torture to her. 
She did not regret the sudden impulse 
which had decreed her husband’s exile, if 
it could be managed, yet she dreaded to 
have him say the words which would pro- 
claim the success of her treachery against 
him. He came over once to where she sate 
in the twilight pretending to read, and laid 
his hand affectionately on her shoulder. It 
was only some trivial remark he had to 
make, but she started so visibly that Eustace, 
watching her, as he had watched her every 
mood during those weeks, came to her after- 
wards with a frown. 

“What is the matter, Maud? Why 
should you keep me at arm’s length? 
Surely I know too much for that already.” 

“ What do you know ? ” she asked with 
the recklessness which of late had crept 
into her manner. 




IOI 


In the Tideway 

“I know you are unhappy. Do you 
remember what I told you that night? 
You shall not suffer.” 

Her lips trembled, and she turned from 
him hastily to join a group gathered round 
the professor. He had come back from 
Eval House greatly depressed in spirits, 
and with a running cold in his head, which 
Cynthia Strong was treating with pulsa- 
tilla, as yet rather unsuccessfully; but it 
required time, she explained, when the 
first stages had been badly managed on 
the old methods. The group was engaged 
in examining the famous Rhine ring, with 
which gift, apparently, Miss Willina had 
tried to content the learned man ; but even 
its possession failed to comfort him. 

“ I have deciphered the inscription,” he 
said gloomily. “ It is, briefly, ‘ Order, Truth, 
Honesty.’ The last word bears many side 
meanings, and perhaps Purity would be a 
better translation. All the terminations 
being feminine, it may be inferred that the 
ring was worn by a woman ; possibly one 
of unusual worth. It may even have been 


102 


In the Tideway 


a badge of virtue; a tribute paid by the 
community to merit, or by the lover to his 
beloved.” 

If he had said a funeral memento to the 
dead, his voice could not have been more 
lugubrious. 

“ How interesting ! ” murmured Cynthia 
Strong. “ Even in those days the mental 
qualities were deemed superior to mere 
physical attractions.” 

“ I beg your pardon,” retorted the pro- 
fessor quite tartly. “ Order, as used here, 
means complete, perfect ; according to our 
modern speech, beautiful. Truth has 
also a secondary meaning. A free, but at 
the same time accurate, translation would 
be ‘ Beautiful, constant, chaste.’ ” 

Rick Halmar was twisting the ring about 
in his strong deft hands. “ I expect some 
beggar gave it to his wife,” he said cheer- 
fully. “It must have been just as jolly then 
as now to have somebody to stick by you 
through thick and thin. T o have the dinner 
ready, and not swear if you hadn’t done 
what you ought to have done. Not brought 


In the Tideway 103 

in enough fish for the kids, for instance; 
though how they ever caught any with those 
bone hooks, I can’t think. I couldn’t.” 

“ You must remember the great incen- 
tive of hunger,” remarked the professor in 
the same tone. “Besides, in those days 
dexterity in the chase was the master key 
to a woman’s affections.” 

“ I say, Weeks, old man ! why weren’t 
you born then ? ” cried Rick, happily un- 
conscious of all complications. 

“ Never had any luck,” muttered the 
other, “except with the birds.” 

“Luck! I like that! You call it luck 
when you never miss; I assure you, Miss 
Strong,” he continued, going up to where 
the despondent captain was standing, and 
addressing the nearest lady, “ I was out 
with him yesterday, and he made me feel 
such a duffer. The prettiest shooting, and 
then he calls it luck ! ” 

Cynthia Strong looked from one to the 
other of those two vigorous young faces 
before her, and then at the professor’s pale 
one. A cold in the head is not becoming, 
and she sighed. 


104 


In the Tideway 


Rick, with the ring still in his possession, 
returned to Lady Maud. 

“ Isn’t it quaint ? ” he said. “ Don’t you 
wish I could find another ? ” 

“Why?” 

“ Because it would be yours, of course. 
How small it looks ! I wonder if it would 
fit you.” 

“ Miss Macdonald found it too large for 
her,” remarked the professor, still more 
gloomily; “but it would be interesting, 
Lady Maud, to try whether it points to 
any improvement or deterioration — physi- 
cal, of course — in the race.” 

“ Perhaps you ladies would not mind ex- 
perimenting ‘ Cinderella and the little glass 
slipper,’ ” laughed Eustace Gordon. “ What 
is to be the prize, Endorwick — the ring ? ” 

“ My dear sir,” gasped the professor, 
horrified for once out of his gallantry, 
“it’s unique — positively unique.” 

“I’ll tell you what,” put in Rick eagerly, 
“ if the professor will lend it to me for a 
couple of days, I’ll copy it in silver. A 
florin would make it, and the inscriptions 


In the Tideway 105 

only scratched on. So now, then, ladies, 
if you please. Weeks, you do herald. 
Lady Maud, may we use the banner 
screen as a tabard ? ” 

“ What a boy that is ! ” said fat Lady 
Liddell to her next-door neighbour. “I’ve 
been here a fortnight, and never saw him 
out of temper or out of spirits. So different 
from most young people nowadays, who 
won’t take the trouble to enjoy themselves.” 

“ I knew it wouldn’t go on anybody’s 
finger but yours,” said Rick with joyous 
confidence to his goddess when the com- 
petition was over. “ Perhaps it wasn’t 
quite fair, because I’d seen Aunt Will try 
it on so often, and her hands are tiny.” 

Lady Maud shook her head gravely. 
“ I’m afraid it wasn’t quite fair ; but you 
must make me the ring, for all that.” 

“ Of course I’ll make it ! ” 

She put her hand on his suddenly. 
“Don’t, Rick! don’t! I mean” — she 
paused, looking at him curiously — “you 
may make it if you like, Rick; but I won’t 
promise to wear it — always.” 


VI 

“ We ought to have gone over to-day,” 
said Eustace Gordon, looking out to where 
the low sandy line of Eilean-a-fa-ash lay 
like a golden clasp between the two head- 
lands. The northern one bold, rocky, 
heathery ; the southern, a mere spit of 
bent-covered shingle, curving hornlike 
from the great sweep of the Grada Sands 
beyond. It was sunset, — a cloudless sun- 
set. Sky, and sea, and sand, bathed in a 
golden flood of light; only the shallow 
stretches of water left behind by the re- 
treating tide glowing iridescent here and 
there like jewels. Far away, almost be- 
yond sight, an edge of foam keeping time 
to a whispering cadence told where the 
Atlantic was hushing the shore to sleep. 

“Yes!” he went on lazily. “We ought, 
106 


In the Tideway 107 

but we didn’t. That fellow Weeks is 
always on the slay.” 

They were seated, a party of five, — for 
the professor still lingered in the grip of 
cold, — on the base of the northern head- 
land. There, amongst the rocks and 
heather, Lady Maud and Cynthia Strong 
had been making tea for the shooters. A 
brace of setters lay panting beside the game- 
bags ; a faint whiff of smoke from behind a 
boulder told that the ghillies were enjoying 
themselves on their master’s tobacco — sure 
sign of a good day’s sport. 

“Gorgeous weather,” continued the same 
contented voice, “a whole week of it; sim- 
ply idyllic.” 

“Ever since Mr. Wilson and the others 
left,” assented Rick Halmar. “ Pity they 
went, isn’t it ? ” 

“ Mr. Wilson had to go,” put in Lady 
Maud. “The telegram from the works 
was urgent, and then the Collinghams’ 
yacht happening to come in the same day 
made it so convenient. Quite a coinci- 
dence; one of those things no one could 


io8 In the Tideway- 

have foreseen.” She spoke impatiently, 
almost in an aggrieved tone ; and Eustace, 
as he lay on his back staring up into the 
sky, smiled to himself. 

“ It is very curious how such things hap- 
pen,” remarked Cynthia Strong; “ but that 
they are comparatively common is indubi- 
table. The very proverbs in our language 
prove it.” In the professor’s absence she 
was apt to assume the mantle of his man- 
ner in order to annihilate poor Captain 
Weeks, in which object she generally suc- 
ceeded. On this occasion, however, em- 
boldened by a recent reception of some 
golden plovers’ wings, for which her new 
tweed hat had been waiting, he ventured 
to put in his oar. “ The wish is father to 
the thought, for instance.” 

“Nothing of the kind — ” began Miss 
Strong scornfully; but Lady Maud rose 
hastily and, standing a little apart, looked at 
Eilean-a-fa-ash, her hand shading her eyes. 

“ Let us settle to go there to-morrow 
without fail,” she said as if to change the 
subject. 


In the Tideway 109 

“Not to-morrow, please,” broke in Rick 
eagerly. “To-morrow is Fast Day, and 
none of the ghillies will do a hand’s turn. 
Besides, I have to drive Aunt Will to the 
preaching, as uncle won’t. Put it off till 
the next day, Lady Maud. To begin with, 
it’s my birthday, and then the tides are full 
spring. So we could come back by the 
sea ford. It is worth doing; nearly two 
miles with quicksands on either side, espe- 
cially to the south.” 

“ Very well, the day after to-morrow ; that 
is, Friday certain ; or some other coinci- 
dence will be carrying off the rest of my 
party.” Still with her hand shading her 
eyes, she remained looking seawards, much 
in the same attitude as she had stood at 
the window a month before. This time her 
slight figure showed against the gold of sea 
and sky. 

“What is that,” she asked, “like a 
mast — yonder and from the headland?” 

Rick, busy as usual with his knife, did 
not pause to look. “ It is a mast, Lady 
Maud. There is a wreck just to the south. 


I IO 


In the Tideway 


Went ashore ever so long ago, but it is 
useful still as a sign-post. Up to that spar 
the sand is pretty safe — most times. Be- 
yond that — by George! you should see it 
when the tide is coming in.” 

“ Oh ! I don’t mean the spar close in — 
yonder, far away.” 

He came and stood by her. “A yacht, 
I think, making, I should say, for Carbost. 
Come to carry some of us away, maybe.” 

“ If it’s for me,” remarked Eustace, join- 
ing them, “ I don’t intend to go. This is 
too good a time to be cut short. I haven’t 
had such a good one since those old days 
at Lynmouth, Maud ! And you too ! 
Why, you are looking twice as well as you 
did — a week ago.” There was meaning 
in his words ; more in his eyes. 

“ Fine weather always agrees with me,” 
she replied hastily. “ Come, Rick, let us 
pick up the tea things and start home.” 

Yet in her heart of hearts she knew that 
Eustace was right. That past week had 
been a paradise of relief, and now it came 
perilously near to the time when the prob- 


In the Tideway hi 

lem of her life must be faced. She had 
driven round it so far, had turned back 
deliberately when she found it barring the 
road, had claimed time to understand 
the position. What had she done towards 
a decision ? Nothing ! Nothing save bask 
in the immediate freedom; rejoice like any 
child in the fine weather, in Rick’s open 
adoration, in her cousin’s constant compan- 
ionship. 

As she and the boy walked homewards 
together, these thoughts came again and 
again, whilst her nervous fingers busied 
themselves mechanically with the silver 
ring which he had made for her ; a grow- 
ing habit of which she was not aware. 

“ Does it hurt you ? ” he asked tenderly. 
“ I can easily alter it, if it does.” 

She shook her head with a faint smile. 

“ But I have seen you do that so often 
lately,” he persisted ; “ perhaps the inside 
is not quite smooth. Give it me, please, 
and I will set it right by Friday.” 

“ Don’t trouble. If it hurts, I can always 
take it off; can’t I, dear?” There was a 


I 12 


In the Tideway 


sudden passion in her tone, a kind of piti- 
ful reproach in her eyes. Rick looked at 
her, perturbed. 

“ But if it hurts — ” he began. 

She put out her pretty hand and laid it 
on his, almost with a protecting gesture. 
“ Nothing you could do would hurt me, 
Rick. You said so the first time we met, 
and it is true. If it hurts, it is my own 
fault.” 

“ That doesn’t make any difference,” he 
replied stoutly. “ Let me have it, please.” 

“ Not to-day — on Friday, perhaps ; if it 
hurts.” 

They were standing where the cross-path 
branched to Eval, waiting for the others to 
come up ; for Rick’s way lay across the 
moor and she would be left alone. 

“I believe it does hurt now,” he said, 
still dissatisfied, “ and I know I could set it 
right. Do let me try.” 

“ How serious you are ! ” she cried with 
a sudden change of mood. “ See ! I promise 
to give it back on Friday if it hurts. It 
shall be my birthday present. There ! ” 


In the Tideway 113 

“ All right. I’ll keep it for yours ; then 
we shall be quits,” he said, laughing. 

When he had left them, Eustace took his 
place, and Cynthia Strong and Captain 
Weeks were certainly the happier for the 
change. Lady Maud, likewise, to judge by 
her light laughter. 

Fast Day rose brilliantly. The clear, 
crisp sunshine poured in through the din- 
ing-room windows, when, coming down to 
breakfast, she found her cousin there, alone. 

“ Another lovely day,” she said gaily. 

“ The last for me,” he replied. “ That 
was the yacht yesterday. It has anchored 
below the sands, and the captain has strict 
orders from Louisa to bring me off dead 
or alive to-night.” He laughed, but there 
was a bitter look on his face as he tossed 
a crumpled letter towards her. “ Catch ! 
that’s my warrant of execution.” 

Not a very nice letter, but a reasonable 
one in its way. The weather was to blame, 
of course ; still, she had asked him to join 
her many times and he had not joined her. 
He had been a month and more at Roe- 


1 


1 14 In the Tideway 

deray and now the equinoctial gales were 
over, she meant to be off southwards. If 
he could not make use of the yacht, he 
must send it round to Cowes and make his 
own arrangements. For her part, she in- 
tended to start for the Mediterranean in 
ten days. Not the sort of letter to be dis- 
regarded by a husband dependent on the 
writer for all save a very moderate settle- 
ment. 

“I’ve told them to have the boat ready 
at the Grada point at five this afternoon to 
take me on board. Perhaps it is better so. 
This sort of thing couldn’t have gone on 
much longer.’’ 

She was silent, and the professor, burst- 
ing in, ended the tete-a-tete. 

“What a land, or perhaps I should say 
sea, of surprises this is, to be sure ! ” he ex- 
claimed. “The Clansman , I am informed 
by the factor, whom I met on his way to 
preaching, will anticipate her time by 
three whole days, owing to this Fast and 
some local market. She takes Carbost on 
the out instead of the in trip, and is due 


In the Tideway 115 

to-night, some time between seven and 
two in the morning. So I am afraid, my 
dear lady, that my delightful visit must 
come to a somewhat abrupt conclusion. 
I propose, therefore, going over — ” 

“ To Eval House,” suggested Eustace. 

“ No-o. To the hotel at dusk, so as to 
be on the spot.” 

Lady Maud paled visibly. “And Cyn- 
thia ! of course she and Captain Weeks 
will go too. Ah! what a sudden break- 
up of our pleasant party ! ” 

“You had better come with us, dear 
lady, and so reduce our regrets to a mini- 
mum,” cried the professor gallantly. 

But the compliment fell flat. That was 
the fate of most remarks during breakfast, 
so that conversation dwindled to excerpts 
from Bradshaw’s guide. Captain Weeks, 
who was generally a stand-by of placid 
good nature, was peculiarly low. He had 
made up his mind, come what might, to 
try his fate with Cynthia Strong before 
leaving, and now, though still determined, 
he felt hustled. She, in her turn, knew she 


1 1 6 In the Tideway 

had shilly-shallied in a way unworthy of a 
Girton girl until her opportunities of bring- 
ing the professor to book had dwindled to 
three days ; two of them to be spent at sea, 
where she could not be sure of hefrself or 
him. As for Eustace and Maud, their 
role in the comedy of Life had been 
touched with tragedy for some time past. 
They felt dimly that the crisis had come. 

“We have never been to Eilean-a-fa-ash, 
after all,” said Cynthia, pausing at the 
window on her way to pack, and looking 
regretfully to where the island lay out in 
the blue sea. 

“ I thought we shouldn’t,” murmured 
Lady Maud in a low voice; “the Island 
of Rest is not for us.” 

“ It has been within reach all the time. 
It is so still,” replied Eustace in the same 
tone. 

“We might have gone this morning if 
it hadn’t been Fast Day,” continued Cyn- 
thia, aggrieved. “ Couldn’t we bribe some- 
body ? I want to go awfully, and so does 
the professor.” 


ll 7 


In the Tideway 

“ My failure to do so will be the only 
regret which can possibly mingle with my 
memories of Roederay.” 

“Can’t think why you all want to see 
it,” remarked the captain, frowning at the 
professor’s complimentary bows. “I went 
over one day — yes, I did, Miss Strong — 
to shoot seals. Didn’t get any — worse 
luck! But it wasn’t a bit pretty. Sand 
and bones and a stone coffin or two. The 
ghillie told me, too, that sometimes, after 
a north wind, it was awfully grim. The 
sand blows off, don’t you know, and leaves 
skeletons and things. Not at all the place 
for ladies, don’t you know.” 

“ I’m sorry to be obliged to differ,” 
retorted Cynthia sharply. “ In my opin- 
ion, there are no places where a woman 
should not be.” 

“ Nihil continget quod non ornavit,” 
paraphrased the professor. 

The captain’s head held itself very high. 
“ Perhaps I am wrong, but I don’t think 
so. However, as you wish to see it, Miss 
Strong, I shall be delighted to row you 


1 1 8 In the Tideway 

over in the small boat. Only we must 
start at slack tide ; that is, about three in 
the afternoon.” 

“Too late, I’m afraid,” replied the young 
lady disconsolately. “We ought to be 
starting for the hotel before six ; oughtn’t 
we, Maud?” 

“ Oh, we could manage it,” he went on, 
seeing in this plan the chance of the tete- 
a-tete on which his mind was set. “ If 
the wagonette were to pick us up at the 
cross-roads, we should have heaps of time. 
It would only be starting two hours ear- 
lier, — before the others, I mean.” 

“ What do you say, professor ? ” asked 
Cynthia sweetly. 

Arthur Weeks ground his teeth, and 
turned away with a murmur about the 
boat being heavy. 

“ But the professor will row, of course. 
Every one rows at Oxford. Indeed, I, for 
one, think the Oxford style is the best in 
the world.” 

“ Then perhaps you will not require my 
aid. I only learnt off the coast of Corn- 
wall.” 


In the Tideway 119 

Cynthia looked at her usually docile 
adorer in amaze ; she did not understand 
that the big man had for once thought it 
worth while to make up his mind. “ But 
we couldn’t go without you,” she pleaded 
quite meekly. “You see, you have been 
there before. Ah, no ! we couldn’t go 
without you.” 

“If I can be of any use — ’’said the 
captain magnificently, and the sight of 
his aggrieved but courteous dignity gave 
Cynthia quite a pang. 

So it was arranged that, about slack tide, 
he and the professor should row to Eilean- 
a-fa-ash from the boat-house on the north 
headland, and afterwards, taking advan- 
tage of the full tide and southerly current, 
slip down the coast across the sands to 
meet the wagonette. Eustace and Maud 
proposed to start about the same time for 
Eval House, so that he might say good-bye 
to Miss Willina before joining the yacht’s 
boat at Grada point, whence the carriage, 
on its return journey, would take Lady 
Maud back to Roederay. 


120 


In the Tideway 


A sombre silence had lain between these 
two all day, and even when they were left 
alone on the terrace watching the others 
disappear shorewards, they said nothing 
for a time. A great stillness seemed to 
be in the very air. Not a breath on the 
water, not a sound on the moor, not a 
cloud on the sky. The very house seemed 
asleep ; most of the servants away for 
edification or amusement at the preaching, 
miles to the south, amongst the peat bogs 
and heather, singing psalms and eating 
peppermint drops, praising the Creator 
and flirting with the creature. 

The silence must have reminded Eu- 
stace of this fact, for at last he turned to 
his companion hastily. “They won’t be 
at Eval, so there is no use going. Come, 
Maud ! It is the last time we shall be 
together, I suppose. Come.” 

It was not much to grant, she thought, 
when she might never see him again. So 
they went out together over the moors, 
down by the little pools where the water 
showed their shadows, blended one into the 


I 2 I 


In the Tideway 

other, upon the cairns where they sate to- 
gether, looking out over the sea. Together, 
always together, Eustace and she, as it had 
been at the beginning. And this was the 
end, the very end. 

Meanwhile the trio in the boat set forth 
gaily; the professor very straight in the 
back, and with no little style giving the 
stroke, whilst Arthur Weeks, gloomily 
polite, paddled in the bows, debarred from 
even a fair sight of his beloved. The full 
flood-tide lapped at the furthermost scal- 
lop of seaweed on the shingly shore, and 
touched the sea-pinks cresting the rocks. 

“ Couldn’t you pull a leetle harder ? ” sug- 
gested the captain drily, when the profes- 
sor paused in a long sentence to take 
breath. “ I don’t want to hustle anybody, 
but we have only just got time to manage 
it. We are making a good deal of leeway, 
and the channel north is a bit dangerous.” 

Cynthia glanced nervously towards the 
Pole. “ Oh, yes ! please, Mr. Endorwick, 
pull harder. We can talk when we get to 
the island.” 


122 


In the Tideway 


Easier said than done. The perspiration 
poured down the professor’s face, and bow 
kept her head straight as a die; yet still 
the boat failed to respond. 

As they crept along slowly, the chan- 
nel between the headlands and the island 
began to open up, showing the still, oily 
water which tells of swift current. 

“We are too far north,” said the cap- 
tain, resting on his oar a moment. “ The 
tide can’t have been quite slack when we 
started. However, it doesn’t matter; for 
the current here will take us south in no 
time.” 

The professor pausing too, they drifted 
idly. 

“That’s the landing-place, Miss Strong,” 
went on the speaker. “ Yonder, where the 
bents almost touch the water, and that 
square thing behind is a stone cof — ” he 
paused abruptly. “ Why, what the devil ! 
we’re drifting north — due north. By 
George, we are, though.” 

In good sooth they were — drifting north 
like a feather. 


123 


In the Tideway 

“North! impossible — the current runs 
south at flood. Stay — by Heaven, I re- 
member — Ronald said something about 
a change at the equinox. Quick, man 
alive. Pull, pull hard ! Once she gets 
beyond those rocks, we will have the 
dickens and all to keep her out of the 
eddy. It runs like a race — higher up 
— amongst sunken — rocks.” 

The last words came in jerks as he set 
all his strength to the oar. The boat spun 
round with the point of the professor’s oar 
as axis; spun round, drifting as it span. 

“ Damn it all ! ” shouted the man of war 
busy on the rowlocks. “ I beg your pardon, 
Miss Strong. Here, man, quick, give me 
the oar — go forward — lie down in the 
bows and keep her keel stiff. Now then, 
Cynthia, don’t scream, there’s a good girl 
— there’s no danger as yet. Lie down too 
— then you won’t see anything.” 

She did lie down ignominiously. Right 
down at his feet, feeling that she would be 
content to enter Paradise clinging to this 
man’s coat-tails if only that entry was not 


124 In the Tideway 

premature. The whole world, to her, lay 
in the strength of those arms, and when, 
meeting her piteous eyes, his face relaxed 
to something like a smile, and he gasped, 
“All right — getting along — nicely,” she 
felt once, and for all, that she loved his 
little finger better than the whole of that 
abject figure in the bows. 

So she crouched, lost in a sort of terri- 
fied reliance on him, till with a queer little 
sound, half sob, half laugh, he slackened, 
and without a pause proceeded to retransfer 
a pair of rowlocks to the bows. 

“Now then — professor — if you please 
— sorry to have — been so abrupt — but — 
one manages better sculling — when there’s 
no rudder.” The breaks were caused by 
his being out of breath. Otherwise he was 
full of dignity, and Cynthia Strong broke 
down suddenly into subdued tears. 

“You had better lie still,” he said. 
“See — here’s my coat.” He fumbled it 
into a pillow with his left hand, as he went 
on rowing with his right. “ Raise your 
head, please, so; ” and, as he bent over her, 


In the Tideway 125 

he whispered, “ Don’t cry, dear, it’s all over 
now.” 

What Cynthia Strong did to the hand so 
near her lips is a dead secret between those 
two. The captain’s fine flush was doubt- 
less due to his previous exertions, but why 
a pillow should have caused a rush of blood 
to Cynthia’s terror-blanched face, remains 
a mystery. 

“ Don’t work so hard, professor ! ” cried 
the former gaily. “You are pulling me 
round, and we have to get our head 
towards home. Eilean-a-fa-ash is out of 
the question ; besides, Miss Strong will be 
all the better for a cup of tea. This sort 
of thing isn’t fit for women.” 

And nobody denied it. 


VII 

A man and a woman looking seawards 
from Grada point. To the north, the long 
curve of sands hidden by the flood-tide. 
A curve ending in the low line of Eilean-a- 
fa-ash, which, viewed from here, seemed as 
if it were joined to the mainland. Beyond, 
the northern headland, whence Roederay 
Lodge stood out against the sky. To the 
south, a coast broken into little points and 
bays, with the slender masts of a yacht 
standing above a near promontory. 

To the west, a spit of rocks running out 
into the Atlantic, which once more lay like 
a golden garment stretching far as the eye 
could reach on either hand. At their feet, 
a little boat swaying gently against a bare 
ledge of rock ; for the tide was at the full. 

“ Do come,” said the man ; “ you haven’t 
126 


127 


In the Tideway 

really seen the yacht, and we can’t possibly 
miss the returning wagonette. I’ll send a 
man to watch, if you like ; then there can 
be no mistake.” 

He did not look at her, but his voice was 
instinct with passionate entreaty. 

“But the men may not be here till late.” 
Lady Maud did not look at him either, yet 
the same repressed emotion rang in her 
tone. 

“ I can row you. We have only to pad- 
dle round those rocks, and the current will 
take us right on to the yacht.” 

“ But the men ? ” 

“ Lazy beggars ! let them swim. Besides, 
they should have been here long ago ; it 
is past five.” 

“ Half-past. They have been here and 
put the stores in the boat.” 

“ It is we who are late.” 

He moved a step closer, impatiently. 
“ What have the men to do with it, Maud ? 
Don’t — don’t be childish ! What are you 
afraid of — not of me, surely ? ” 

There was a pause. 


128 


In the Tideway 


“I am afraid of nothing,” she said lightly. 
“ Come, it will be pleasant out on that 
sunny sea at any rate.” 

He steadied the boat for her, and she 
stepped in. 

“ Where to ? ” he asked, half in jest, 
when a stroke or two had taken them from 
the shadow of the rock into the glitter of 
the sinking sun, where they lay bathed in 
light, the water dripping from the lifted 
oars like drops of molten gold. “Why 
shouldn’t we leave everything behind and 
set sail for nowhere — anywhere ? ” 

With his arms resting on the oars, he 
leant forwards, fixing his dark eyes on her 
face. They were full of pity and a great 
tenderness. 

“You look so nice there, Maud. Take 
off your hat, dear, and let the sun shine on 
your hair as it used to do when you were a 
girl. If I had my will, Maud, you should 
always be in the sunlight ; you know that, 
don’t you ? ” 

The oars fell into the water softly as he 
rowed on, whilst she sate silent, trailing one 


129 


In the Tideway 

hand in the water and watching the great 
big medusae come pulsating past. 

“ How pleasant it must be to drift — like 
that!” she said half to herself, and once 
again the drip, drip, drip, of those golden 
tears filled up the silence as the boat swayed 
idly on the breathing of the sea. 

“ Why shouldn’t we drift ? There is 
plenty of time, and God knows ties enough, 
as a rule. Grapnels fore and aft and a 
mud bank under all to stick upon.” 

“ Don’t talk of that now, Eustace,” she 
broke in hurriedly. “ Let us forget it for 
this last half hour. Isn’t it enough to be 
here — together ? ” 

“ Enough for now — ” he replied un- 
steadily ; “ but for afterwards ? ” 

“ There may be no afterwards.” 

He shook his head. “A man never 
thinks of that. He can’t live on moonshine ; 
or sunshine either. He wants something 
real ; and so do you. Maud ! what will 
you do when you go back to him ?” 

She put out her hand in entreaty 
with a little cry. “ Oh, Eustace ! can you 


130 In the Tideway 

not let me be happy for one short half 
hour?” 

“ Happy, when we are going to part ? 
Happy, when I know what your future 
will be ? when I know it will be torture to 
you ? Why did you send him away if it 
was not because the strain was too great 
for you to bear ? ” 

“I — I did not send him away,” she 
faltered. 

“Pshaw! Hooper told me about it — 
the fool was afraid. Then the wire came, 
of course, and there was no need for the 
other. But you meant it, Maud. Ah, my 
darling ! don’t think I am blaming you — 
Blame ! How could I blame you save for 
too much patience ? 

“ Maud, let us cut the knot ! We have 
made a mistake, both of us ; for you are 
miserable, and I — I will not bear it. Come 
— the yacht is there. Let us go into the 
sunshine. Come, my darling — see how 
fate points the way. We are drifting, 
drifting — a little more and the current 
will take us. Why should you go back to 


In the Tideway 131 

the empty house ? the empty life ? Maud ! 
Maud ! ” 

What does a man say to a woman when 
he has forgotten everything in the world 
save his mad desire to keep her for his 
own ? All that could be said, in all its ten- 
derness, its passion, and its selfishness, was 
hers as the boat drifted and drifted. 

“ I am cold ! ” she said suddenly, giving 
a little shudder, yet drawing closer to him. 
“We shall be too late.” 

“Too late to return,” he answered joy- 
ously. “Oh, Maud, trust me this once — 
See, the yacht is close.” He turned and gave 
a quick exclamation of surprise. Where 
were they ? Not, as he expected, within a 
stone’s throw of the coast, drifting surely 
southwards. Here was nothing save sea, 
and rising slowly from it on all sides a thin 
mist, golden in the sunlight through which, 
in the far distance, a shadow or two loomed 
faint, unrecognized. 

Above them the sky, clear as ever ; below 
them the sea, bright, pellucid; but between 
them a gathering curtain which even as he 


i3 2 


In the Tideway 


looked faded from gold to white, from 
white to grey, as the unseen sun sank be- 
neath the unseen horizon. 

“ It is a sea-haugh,” he said lightly ; “the 
wind must have changed to the north, and 
the cold condenses the vapour. I have 
seen them often after hot weather. But 
it is all right. We must be close to the 
yacht, for we were well in the current when 
I stopped rowing ; and it runs inshore due 
south. If I whistle, they must hear and 
answer.” 

But none came, and the sound seemed 
to return resonant from the mist, showing 
that it had not travelled far. So, whistling, 
shouting, and rowing, they spent some time 
in vain, till fear began to invade her cour- 
age. What if they had drifted past ? 
What if they were drifting out to sea, 
further and further from safety ? He tried 
to scoff at her alarm, though his own anxiety 
grew fast as the mist settled thicker and 
thicker till he could not see a yard beyond 
the bows. Suddenly, with a grating shock, 
the boat stopped abruptly, almost throwing 


In the Tideway 133 

them into each other’s arms. His heart 
seemed to stop also, as he remembered 
having heard of sunken rocks in mid 
channel. 

“We are aground — stay still, I will see.” 

He stepped cautiously over the side, one 
foot into six inches of water and a shelving 
bottom, the other into three. Then on to 
firm dry warm sand. His laugh of relief 
was genuine. 

“ The adventure is over, Maud. Come ! 
let me help you out. This must be the 
mainland ; but where, I can’t say.” 

A difficult question, indeed, to decide 
with that grey mist curtain closing in and 
shutting out all, save a patch or two of 
bent at their feet. 

“ Stay here a bit,” he continued, “ and I 
will explore. Take the whistle. I won’t 
go beyond its reach or be away long; the 
road must be close by.” 

It was not, however, and he returned 
after a time with a clouded face. “ I don’t 
understand it. The sea seems to surround 
us except in one direction, and that is all 


134 In the Tideway 

sand and bent. I don’t remember any such 
point below Grada.” 

“ Perhaps we, are above it,” suggested 
his companion. 

“ Quite impossible. The current runs 
south; a sort of back eddy from the big 
stream. That is what brings all the drift 
to Grada Sands. The question, however, 
is what we are to do. Take to the boat 
again and punt along the shore till we find 
a landmark, I should say. Best not to 
desert our ships.” 

But this again brought a disappointment, 
and half an hour’s rowing, punting, and 
towing resulted in nothing. By this time 
it was almost dark, the mist gathered 
denser than ever, and with the approach of 
night the north wind rose steadily. 

“ The sooner we settle ourselves the 
better, if we have to camp out, and it looks 
like it,” said he at last. “ Still, if we light a 
fire, some one may see it. Anyhow, there 
are stores and a sail in the boat, so we 
shall manage. Cheer up, Maud ; imagine 
we are children again. How often haven’t 


i35 


In the Tideway 

we pretended to be cast away on a desert 
island together, and how happy we were ! ” 

True enough; yet as she helped him to 
gather driftwood for the fire, her thoughts 
were on the difference between those days 
and these. And there was more to them 
in this mischance than there would have 
been to others. What had she meant to 
do when she stepped into the boat ? She 
could not tell ; only this she knew, that fate 
seemed to have decided for her. If the 
fire brought some one — well and good. 
If not, why then Eustace and she had gone 
adrift. That question was settled forever. 

She sate feeding the fire, whilst he for- 
aged for eatables in the boat, and each 
stick seemed to her another doubt dis- 
pelled. How they flamed and crackled and 
sparkled, as driftwood does out of sheer joy 
in burning. Yet no one came — no one. 

Later on, with the tenderness which was 
a fierce delight to her, he found her what 
shelter he could on that bare waste of bent 
and shingle ; though it was only a nook, 
backed on the windy side by a rough slab 


136 


In the Tideway 


of rock half embedded in the sand. Still 
it was dry and warm, and with the boat’s 
sail wrapped round her, and her feet 
towards a freshly built fire, she could lean 
back comfortably and defy some of the 
growing cold and rising wind. She sate 
watching him silently as he sate by the 
fire, turning every now and again to assure 
himself of her comfort or tuck the sail, 
loosened by the wind, round her more 
closely. 

Suddenly, during one of these ministra- 
tions, her eye caught the sparkle of dew- 
drops on his coat, and she stretched out 
her delicate hand to touch his sleeve. It 
was quite wet. 

“ There is plenty of room for you here, 
Eustace,” she said quietly, “and the sail 
will cover us if we sit close together. I 
I must not begin by being selfish.” Then 
her calm gave way. “ Oh, Eustace ! Eu- 
stace ! we must love each other very dearly 
or I shall die of shame.” 

Something in the almost despairing sur- 
render to fate roused the best part in his 


In the Tideway 137 

nature. He drew her head on to his 
shoulder and kissed her gently. 

“ Good-night, dear. Go to sleep if you 
can. I’ll watch the fire.” 

She gave a little shivering sob and clung 
to him. All was settled now; she had 
taken her life into her own hands; the 
struggle was over, and he was a haven 
of rest — a haven of rest. Her thoughts 
went no further than that, for she was 
utterly wearied out ; but as he sate beside 
her, his mind went far afield into the 
afterwards which he had claimed as his 
right; and more than once as she stirred 
in the uneasy sleep into which she had 
fallen, he bent over her again and kissed 
her. She was his ; the past was at an 
end; scruples must come later if they 
came at all. He had foreseen this ending 
from the beginning ; perhaps he had tried 
to escape from it; perhaps he had not. 
This much was certain, — the stars had 
fought for him, and she was his. The 
wind swept steadily round them, but, safe 
sheltered as she was, he feared no harm, 


In the Tideway 


138 

and when the dawn came their troubles 
would all be over — forever. 

So sheltering her, as morning ap- 
proached he, too, fell into a doze, and 
the fire, deprived of fuel, sank by degrees 
to a heap of smouldering ashes. Then 
the chill which comes before the day 
sought them out even in each other’s arms, 
and brought to both a vague, surprised con- 
sciousness of their surroundings. Where 
were they ? What had happened ? With 
eyes still full of sleep and dreams, she saw 
the grey mist hanging round them — the 
ashes of the fire which had burnt so 
bravely last night. Last night ! Great God, 
how came she there ? 

“ Eustace ! " she cried, starting up wildly, 
one hand finding aid from the slab of rock 
behind her. Her pretty hair was damp 
with dew, her face flushed where it had 
rested on his shoulder. 

For answer he caught her to him and 
covered her face with passionate kisses. 
He, too, was fresh from sleep and 
dreams, — dreams of the hereafter. And 


In the Tideway 


139 


now the day had come, and yonder, where 
the mist showed lightest, the sun was 
rising. 

“ Oh, no ! no ! ” she panted, struggling 
to escape. 

“ Maud ! ” — his tone was full of surprised 
reproach as he fell back a step, — “ what 
is it ? What have I done ? ” 

“ What have I done ? ” she echoed 
swiftly. “ I can’t remember ! Oh, God ! 
what’s that ? ” Her voice rose to a shriek ; 
she clung to him convulsively with one 
hand while her eyes fixed themselves on 
the stone slab which had sheltered her — 
and him. 

The north wind had done work during 
the night, and the embedded slab was 
clear now; more than clear. It formed 
part of a stone coffin whence the wind 
had driven the sand, leaving the contents 
exposed to view. Only a few bones, but, 
backed by the drifted sand, they still kept 
the semblance of a skeleton sitting staring 
out into the mist. 

Eustace Gordon recoiled — the best of 


140 In the Tideway 

men would have done so much in such a 
situation ; then memory aided him. 

“It is Eilean-a-fa-ash, Maud — Eilean-a- 
varai — you remember. We must have 
drifted north somehow. Don’t look so 
scared, my darling. It is only Eilean-a- 
fa-ash — the Island of Rest — that is all.” 

She did not heed him; her eyes, full 
of an almost insane terror, were fastened 
on the fleshless hand which lay so near 
— oh ! God in heaven ! — so near her own 
as it clutched the side of the coffin. 

“ The ring,” she whispered. “ Look ! 
look — the ring, my ring, my ring.” 

Yes ! on the dead as on the living hand 
he saw the ring with its legend, “ Beau- 
tiful, constant, chaste.” A chill came over 
even his passion ; yet he turned to her 
with sudden petulance. 

“ Well ! what then ? — you know whence 
it must have come, what it must have been 
from the beginning, I suppose. Come ! 
let us leave these horrors, let us leave the 
past and be sensible. Come, Maud.” 

She gave him one look, — a look he never 


In the Tideway 141 

forgot, — and with a cry of “Rick’s ring! 
Rick’s ring!” broke from him and disap- 
peared into the mist. 

“ Maud ! Maud ! don’t be silly ! Maud ! 
where are you going? For God’s sake, 
Maud! come back. The mist — the sea 
— are you mad ? Maud ! Maud ! ” 

Then he, too, was blotted out, and the 
growing light of day found nothing human 
there save the bones of a woman who had 
been loved. Nothing but that and the 
ashes of a fire which had gone out. 

“ Maud ! Maud ! ” The cry hit on the 
mist and came echoing back to him, as, 
following her faint footsteps, he pursued 
her. Once looming through the fog he 
thought he saw her pausing as for breath, 
but his passionate entreaty for her to wait 
for him, his eager reminder that he was 
Eustace — Eustace, her lover — brought no 
response. Did he imagine a faint cry as 
if she started off in renewed alarm, or was 
it only some sea-bird hidden in the mist, 
uttering its plaintive note ? 

He brought himself up suddenly with a 


142 


In the Tideway- 


gasp of horrid fears as his feet gave way 
beneath him — deeper? deeper? No! that 
was right: firm ground once more, but 
where was he? Where were those faint 
footmarks leading him ? 

“ Maud ! Come back ! It is not safe ! ” 
Still he went on. Not safe, indeed! He 
floundered desperately for a moment, and 
then stood with laboured breath and a dew 
of deadly fear on his face, looking round 
him. The sun rising steadily had, by this 
time, turned the mist into a golden haze, 
through which he could see that a few 
seaweed-hung boulders had been gathered 
to a heap whence sprang a cross-shaped 
post. It must be a ford — the sea ford to 
Eilean-a-fa-ash. That way then lay safety, 
for a few hours ; but which way had she 
gone ? He stooped to see, with fear for 
her and for himself fighting with his love. 
Then he stood up, pale as death. “ Maud ! 
Come back. Maud ! I will not hurt you.” 
Surely, surely there was an answering cry. 
The relief seemed to blind him, deafen 
him. 


In the Tideway 143 

“ Here ! Here ! where are you ? It 
is I!” 

The next instant Rick Halmar was be- 
side him, fiercely imperative. “ Where is 
she ? Where is she ? ” 

Eustace Gordon looked at the eager 
boyish face stupidly, and faltered, “She 
was afraid — she ran away. I don’t know 
why. Call her. She might come to you. 
Call her.” 

Those bright blue eyes seemed to pierce 
him through and through, before they 
sought the ground. There was not much 
to be seen ; only the print of a woman’s 
foot in the sand, a foot going south ; due 
south. 

“ Coward ! ” 

The word rang out clear from the golden 
mist like a voice from heaven, and Eustace 
Gordon was left standing alone beside the 
cross pointing towards safety. Rick Hal- 
mar had gone south ; due south. 


VIII 

Then a new cry beat itself upon the 
curtain of mist : “ Lady Maud ! Lady 
Maud ! it is I — Rick ! Rick Halmar.” 
And the boy’s voice reached further than 
the man’s, as moment by moment the sea- 
haugh lightened, softened, rose, until it 
seemed no more than a golden halo round 
the climbing sun. 

“It is I — Rick! Rick Halmar.” 

His hands clenched tighter and tighter 
as he ran. To Eustace the danger had 
been uncertain, unreal, but Rick knew 
every inch of the ground, and knew that 
each step left hope further behind. Al- 
ready his accustomed ear had caught the 
curious whispering hush with which the 
land gives way before the sea. And he 
knew what that meant on Grdda Sands. 

144 


145 


In the Tideway 

Firm foothold for a second and then a 
shivering and murmuring sliding gulf. Oh, 
horrible, most horrible to think of her. 

“ Lady Maud ! it is I — Rick, only Rick.” 

The thought came to him suddenly that 
it was his birthday. She had promised to 
give him something. Ah! fate could not 
be so cruel on his birthday of all days in 
the year ! Foolish irrational thought which 
somehow brought him comfort as his keen 
eyes sought a sign and found nothing but 
those shining footsteps, whence the water 
filtered even as he sped past them. Thank 
Heaven for so much ! since it showed that 
the tide was still far off ; that as yet there 
was time. Lighter and lighter too ! Soon 
he might be able to see her, ghostlike, 
through the mist, or at least judge the 
distance of that creeping line of foam 
which, still unseen, and still, he hoped 
fiercely, far, far off, yet seemed to occupy 
his every thought, to fill his memory. 
Tortuous like a snake, with the snake’s 
low hiss as it curled along the quivering 
sand. Suddenly his heart stood still, for 

L 


146 


In the Tideway 


there out of the golden mist grew the tall 
black spar of the old wreck with its mes- 
sage of warning : “ Pretty safe so far, most 
times ; beyond that — ” The recollection of 
his own careless words prompted another 
cry. 

“ My lady — my dearest lady. It is I, 
Rick — only Rick. ” 

What was that on the sand — blotting 
the yellow sand just below the spar? A 
stone ? seaweed ? No — that was a woman’s 
dress ; she was there, face downwards on 
the sand, fallen insensible perhaps — but 
saved. Thank God ! saved. He stum- 
bled in his mad haste to reach her. Was 
it a stumble, or had his foot broken through 
the firmer crust? Again, this time both 
feet. Could he have come so far, so close, 
only to fail ? Impossible ! Then beneath 
him he felt a tremor, the first slight tremor 
heralding the dissolution of dry land. With 
the sudden resolve which, in time of danger, 
separates one man from his fellow, deci- 
sively, absolutely, to the utter annihilation 
of all cant about equality, he put all his 


147 


In the Tideway 

strength into one bold leap forward. The 
next instant he was clinging to the spar 
like a monkey, or a sailor. The tremor 
passed; the sand settled once more with 
a low gurgling murmur, proclaiming the 
back draw of the wave still hidden by the 
haze. Cautiously he tried one foot beyond 
the single plank between him and destruc- 
tion. Hopeless, even if he stood still, and 
to reach her he must take a step or two. 
Again the tremor came, — the shifting, 
sliding sparkle of the sand-grains as they 
parted, — and the figure lying with its face 
hidden, resting on the right arm, sank a 
little. Only a very little ; yet still it sank. 
He had come prepared for danger, with a 
rope wound about his waist; and almost 
with his first foothold on the wreck, his 
hands had been busy with the coil even 
while his thoughts and eyes were else- 
where. A bight here, a bend there, and it 
was fast as sailor’s lore could make it, to 
the spars and to his body. No ! not there ; 
for it had to be doubled to bear the strain, 
and he could not afford to lose an inch. 


1 48 


In the Tideway 


So, tight over one shoulder with a treble 
twist round his outstretched arm. That 
would not give way unless it tore the arm 
from its socket; and then the rope, being 
high up on the spar, would give him 
greater purchase when the time came for 
strength. How long these thoughts, these 
actions, seemed to take ; yet he could not 
spare one of them even though, with a soft, 
swishing rush, the hidden enemy made an- 
other sally. This time lingering half a 
moment round that figure on the sand as 
if to gain a firmer hold upon it. Perhaps ! 
but not so firm as his would be. Now he 
was ready ! With a swing backwards and 
forwards to gain additional impetus, the 
rope coiled loosely so as not to drag, he 
leapt clear of the wreck towards her. 
An instant’s doubt, and he had her by the 
hand, the left hand, which lay stretched on 
the sand as she had fallen. How cold it 
was ! Could she be dead ? But the hor- 
ror of the thought was forgotten in fight ; 
for now, with the same chuckling sound as 
if the devils below were laughing at him, 


149 


In the Tideway 

came the back draw. Not an inch, not a 
quarter to be yielded, come what might. 
The rope, despite his bitter clench upon 
its strands, cut deep into his arm ; it 
seemed as if a red-hot iron pierced his 
shoulder, as the sinews strained to their 
uttermost. Ah ! that was a relief, but her 
weight was heavier surely, and that meant 
less stable support. Hanging as he was, 
by one arm, — the other outstretched to 
keep his hold on her, — he could see noth- 
ing save the unsteady sand closing round 
him. He seemed to feel nothing save the 
little cold hand in his. It was now or 
never. Grasping the rope as high as he 
could reach, he put out his whole strength, 
hoping to move her but an inch nearer to 
him. Hopeless ; and the back draw, com- 
ing on him unawares, found him, as it 
were, on the rack, and seized its opportu- 
nity. He set his teeth and endured. 
How, he never knew, but when the agony 
passed, a dew, like that of death, was on 
his face, and he hung nerveless, helpless, 
save for the desperate resolve to keep his 


150 In the Tideway 

hold — to keep her hand in his. The 
wave again. Little bubbles this time, as 
if some one was drowning close by. Ah ! 
if he could only see her, even though it 
was to see her gripped in that pulsating 
horror ! 

“Maud! it is I — only Rick.” The cry 
came from him as he hung on the rack 
once more. Perhaps, if he could keep his 
hold, the coming tide would slacken that 
grip — it might — it must. How far had 
she sunk — already ? Had the golden 
head disappeared ? Was there nothing 
left save the little cold hand where he 
could feel the ring — his ring — slipping 
under his clasp ? Ah ! there was the wave 
again — surging in his ears, whispering, 
whispering, whispering, surely of some far- 
off country, of a great rest, and peace, and 
forgetfulness. 

******* 

Rick Halmar hung limp upon the rope. 
Nature had stepped in; her patience was 
exhausted, she would have no more hero- 
ism, no more delay. Those two hands had 


In the Tideway 15 1 

held each other long enough. The time 
had come for them to part quietly, peace- 
fully. Not in a moment, but gradually, as 
if even in unconsciousness the spirit strove 
against the flesh, those slender fingers 
slipped through the strong ones. Slipped 
and slipped, till, with a little jerk, Rick’s 
hand closed upon itself, and fell back inert, 
while the other, still stretched in mute ap- 
peal, sank slowly into the sand. 

The sun, having escaped from its halo, 
saw the deed done, and smiled down upon 
the sight cheerfully. Only a boy with a 
birthday present in his hand. Only one 
more woman loved and lost. What was 
that to weep over ? A wheeling gull, 
sweeping by on broad white wings, sug- 
gested sympathy, but, in reality, it came 
to see if the deed portended food for its 
young ones. There were no other specta- 
tors. Had there been, they would have 
been so occupied by vain attempts to aid, 
that the essence of it all would have 
escaped them. Such things are better 
told than witnessed. 


152 


In the Tideway 


So thought Miss Willina when, three 
weeks afterwards, Rick, with his left arm 
still in a sling, tried to make her under- 
stand it was not his fault. He wore the 
silver ring on his right hand ; they had 
found it there tight clasped when, set on 
the track by Eustace Gordon, they came 
in a boat to the rescue. Just too late to 
do more than release Rick from a torture 
none the less painful afterwards because 
it was unfelt at the time. Perhaps, with 
her older eyes, Miss Willina saw further 
into the blame than he did ; but she said 
nothing. 

So Rick kept the ring, with its legend 
“ Beautiful, constant, chaste,” as his birth- 
day present. He did not even give it to 
his wife. It belonged, he said, to the 
most perfect woman he had ever seen, and 
when people suggested the propriety of 
this being a euphonism for the one he had 
.chosen as his life-companion, he shook his 
head with a smile. 

Nevertheless, Miss Willina was not silent 
of blame. She poured vials of it on her 


153 


In the Tideway- 

own head for having neglected a clear 
duty. If she had only insisted on the 
other devil being burnt as well, this 
terrible thing might not have come to 
pass. Anyhow, she would go over to the 
deserted Lodge without delay, and destroy 
the wicked idol, lest it should do more 
harm. 

“ Let me come too,” said Rick in a low 
voice. 

This time Miss Willina did not meet his 
request with the query, “ Was she so pretty 
as all that, dear ? ” Indeed, the memory 
of those words choked her. 

So Rick went for the first time into the 
little sanctum where Lady Maud had stood 
adrift at the window. The image was still 
on the mantelpiece, and he started at the 
sight of it. “ Aunt Will ! ” he cried in 
quick, half-alarmed tones, “ I never made 
that — it is not my work.” 

It was not. The professor had been 
right for once, when he called it a genuine 
savage conception of fate, brought thither 
by the Gulf Stream. 


154 


In the Tideway- 


Rick took it up in his hands and looked 
at it curiously. “ I wonder,” he said, half 
to himself, “ if things would have been 
different” Then, with a sort of appeal, 
he turned to Miss Willina. “ Aunt Will 
— you don’t really believe — all that rub- 
bish — do you ? ” 

Her answer was decisive. She took the 
image from him, and marched off with it 
to Kirsty’s peat fire. 

So that was an end of the tragic comedy 
of Roederay. When Rick set off to sail 
the seas, all the actors in it had disap- 
peared, save Miss Willina in the wind- 
blown Noah’s Ark at Eval. 

Will Lockhart came back the next sum- 
mer, and painted a picture of Eilean-a- 
fa-ash, with a golden sea-haugh hanging 
over drifted sand, and the skeleton of a 
hand showing from a stone coffin. It was 
gruesome and morbid; so it was much 
admired by the Gulf Stream of society in 
the Royal Academy. Miss Willina, how- 
ever, still refused to find entertainment in 
a magic lantern. The past was sacred, 


i55 


In the Tideway 

she said, and no good ever came in dis- 
believing in it. Besides, what would be- 
come of her animals ? 

He came again the next summer, bring- 
ing with him a tale about the “ flusteration 
midst the bastes of all creation,” which 
followed on the introduction of the “ Spirit 
of fell Denial into the Ark,” whereat they 
both laughed. 

And that year he sent a picture to the 
Royal Academy, which a few critics ad- 
mired. But then, it was only the portrait 
of a middle-aged woman with a sick 
gosling on her lap, and half a dozen 
zoological specimens grouped around her. 
Yet you could almost feel the northwest 
wind which was ruffling the coils of hair, 
and smell the fresh, salt, wholesome breeze 
which had swept the sand from those dead 
fingers at Eilean-a-fa-ash. It was the other 
side of the picture ; but it did not suit the 
public taste so well. Chacun d son gotit. 




, 


































ON THE FACE OF THE WATERS 


BY 

FLORA ANNIE STEEL 

Author of “Miss Stuart's Legacy ," “The Flower of Forgive- 
ness,' ’ “Red Rowans,” “Tales from the Punjab,” etc., etc. 


i2mo. Cloth. $1.50 


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not fear the result.” — Daily Chronicle. 

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needless display of historical knowledge. No one, not even Mr. 
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66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK 
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MISS STUART’S LEGACY 


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i2mo. Cloth. $1.50 


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“ The story is a delightful one, with a good plot, an abundance of 
action and incident, well and naturally drawn characters, excellent 
in sentiment, and with a good ending. Its interest begins with the 
opening paragraph, and is well sustained to the end. Mrs. Steel 
touches all her stories with the hand of a master, and she has yet to 
write one that is in any way dull or uninteresting.” — The Christian 
at Work. 


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THE FLOWER OF FORGIVENESS 
AND OTHER STORIES 

BY 

MRS. F. A. STEEL 


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stories have the charm of mystical poetry ; they are studies in char- 
acter, like nothing else in contemporary literature.” — Chicago 
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have already spoken. There is found here an intimate knowledge 
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Union. 

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wholesome and sweet and fresh as the moorland air itself, — and 
those who love Scotland know what this praise means.” — Boston 
Evening Transcript. 

“ A love story, simple, sweet, and true, is a joy to all impressible 
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fully ingenious. The author’s practised pen achieves an effective 
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fiction.” — Boston Courier. 


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TALES OF THE PUNJAB 

TOLD BY THE PEOPLE 

BY 

HRS. F. A. STEEL 

With Illustrations by J. Lockwood Kipling, C.I.E., and Notes 
by R. C. Temple. 


i 6 mo. Cloth, Gilt. $2.00 


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handed down solely by word of mouth from one generation to an- 
other, could hardly be distinguished from those in a Teutonic collec- 
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they have been rendered by Mrs. Steel, will delight the children, 
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students of folklore. Mr. Kipling’s illustrations are eminently ap- 
propriate and lifelike." — Boston Daily Advertiser. 


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